Lady of the Seraphs
by Mad Ink
Summary: Nothing seems clear anymore. Everyone wants a portal-hopping warrior on their team, and resident Rogue, Madi Verdantia, has no clue why. After evading another death, she decides the best way to survive her very real demons is to get out of their spotlight and connect with the freedom she once had. Middle Earth is a big place, but is it big enough to contain this girl's ego?
1. Take a Walk

**In advance, this isn't going to be like any of the other Verdantian installments.**

**My disclaimer is coming now.**

**Be prepared, because this is the only one you shall see…**

_**I do not own Lord of the Rings. But my character is going to kick ass in it. That is all.**_

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Blackout**_** ~ Breathe Carolina**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**1. Take a Walk**

I rolled out of the portal and landed on warm prickly grass. I groaned and curled my hands into the stuff, trying to regain my bearings. The sun beat down on me and my dark clothing quickly absorbed the heat.

I could have sworn my head was ringing off its hinges. It was obnoxious and throbbing and painful and made it impossible to move. I groaned again, willing it to stop. Only it didn't. I pressed my head further into the grass.

"That was hell," I muttered. "That was hell. That was total. Fucking. Hell."

Finally, I managed to pull it together to sit upright. Only to realize I was in the middle of nowhere.

Seriously. Nowhere.

Grasslands stretched out as far as I could see. I frowned. Did it work?

My name is Madi Verdantia, and I'm a Rogue – a regular person like you who can go into different worlds. These worlds are usually found in books and movies and TV shows (I think, I haven't tested out that last theory yet). I can create portals that let me go into them. In fact, my latest escapade was what got me into this mess.

I'd gone into a world by Cassandra Clare called _City of Fallen Angels_. Heard of it? No? It's all good. Anyways, I fought in that world, and died.

Yes. I died. But that's a long story I really don't feel like getting into.

The point is, I got brought back to life by something. I had no clue what, but with my luck, it wasn't going to be good.

So I decided I needed to get off of the radar, do things quietly for a while. Get back to square one. I used to travel to any world I wanted to without any complicated stuff happening. I wanted to get back to that.

So I chose our very own Middle Earth.

In the world of _Lord of the Rings_.

Starting with the first book.

Okay, shut up. I'm a nerd. I know this. In fact, I proudly accept it on a regular basis.

After my headache finally subsided (portal traveling, it'll do that to you), I pulled myself up. I brushed off the grass from my jeans, and looked around me.

Right… Stuck in the middle of nowhere.

I did a full three-sixty in order to gain my bearings. Yup. Grassland everywhere. A huge blanket of it. Off to the right, there were some snowcapped mountains. To my left, forest. In between it? You guessed it! _Grass_! _Yay_!

If you couldn't have guessed what was above, kiddies, that's what we call _sarcasm_.

I swear I could've done a face-palm then and there. Yes. Chanting Middle Earth, Middle Earth, Middle Earth, Middle Earth was _uber_-specific when calling upon portals. Once again, another moronic move. I'm pretty good at those.

I spun around again, which only seemed to piss off my head. It began to hammer again, making me press my hand against my temple. Ugh.

I debated on whether or not to use another portal. Just to get me to Rivendell. When my head pounded even harder at the thought, I dismissed it easily. No way. No way in hell was that happening anytime soon.

That was also when I noticed a wet feeling on my lips.

I brushed at it quickly, and pulled my hand back, seeing blood smeared on my fingers. I rubbed underneath my nose, and realized it was bleeding.

Double-damn. Could my life really be so unfair?

Obviously. My nose was spewing blood, making me feel like a human faucet (now isn't that disgusting?), and I had nothing to soak up the stuff. There was obviously no town for miles where I could get assistance, but was there a road?

Holding my hand under my nose, I jogged towards the nearest hill. This only aggravated my headache, and I pressed my free hand against my head. Okay, no running. Running was definitely out at this point.

I scanned the countryside, and suddenly felt a burst of pride. There was a road. A road! A long, winding dirt road that looked like it was made more from constant use and less than construction.

All right… road. Now which way was I supposed to go on this said road?

I hooked my thumbs in the pockets of my jeans. The pounding in my head was beginning to fade again. I rubbed my nose experimentally, and when I pulled my hand back, I saw only dried blood. Progress.

I sighed and pulled my twin blades, Metatron and Sandalphon, out in front of me, yanked out my new gun from my belt and sat down on the ground.

Yes. I have a pistol, a couple of seraph blades, a tough leather jacket with a cotton hood, some skinny jeans, a Led Zeppelin T-shirt, and some black combat boots.

In my defense, I used to look a lot more professional than this. Like, I had a whole urban armor outfit, and a leather rucksack to boot. But, when you're kind of on the run for your life, you end up forgetting some stuff.

I frowned when I remembered that. Shit. I had some pretty technologically advanced stuff too, and now no bag to hide it in. New iPhone and iPod (since I left my old stuff in another dimension), a kickass pistol, and nowhere to really stow them. The magic of shoplifting clothes and pricey technology, and I forgot to get another backpack?!

The idea of portaling somewhere still sent my stomach spiraling into nervous cartwheels, so I decided leaving to get one would be a bad idea.

I kept my phone and iPod stuffed in my jacket's inner pockets, and put the gun in another pocket.

Before I did, though, I paused to look at said gun.

It was a gift from a Greater Demon from my past escapade, a weapon said to kill anything in sight. What was it called? A Colt, I think. I killed the same Greater Demon with it. It could come in handy in the future, but I sincerely doubted any member of the Fellowship would stand for all the witchcraft I had stowed up my sleeves.

That's right. I'm not in this world just for the scenery. Hell no. I'm going to go on the quest to help destroy the One Ring, and be a total badass while doing it. It's how these things just ought to be done. I think I've earned the right to do this too, I think I'm about at the same level as Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas when it comes to fighting. Now that I've earned my stripes, I can belong in this world.

I yanked out my iPod at the thought, smiling. Yes, hide a pistol but not an iPod? Well, there was no way in hell I was walking a desolate countryside in silence. I'm too American to appreciate that.

Once I hit the first town, I'd stow it. With that thought in mind, I put in the earbuds, and stood up. I looked down to scroll through my songs, and grinned. How perfect.

_Take a Walk_ by Passion Pit blared through my earphones and into my ears, which brought on my second wind.

Take a walk, I would.

_**.M.I.W.**_


	2. To Bree

**FINALLY, RIGHT? Holy crap, guys, I'm so sorry for not updating faster.**

**The reason for my lack of updating is because I'm going to self-publish my book. I've just submitted it to an editor, and I've only just now finished revising the content portion of her critique. Next is grammar and style.**

**I'll probably release it sometime at the end of this year, in case anyone's curious. All I have to do now is find a cover artist.**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Do Better **_**~ Say Anything**

_**Fire Escape**_** ~ Civil Twilight**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**2. To Bree**

I walked down the road, my steps now adopting a jazzy flare.

"_Hey lover, you're fine_," I sang as I popped and shifted to the side. "_I've been looking for you all this time._"

"_This club, don't close_," I waved my arms coolly, spinning around so my back faced the way I was going, and I jerked back a few steps. "_Tell me, baby, where you think we're gonna go?_"

"_But I like this, I'm about to put you on. Started on the bed, ended up on the floor._" I then locked my right ankle behind my left and did a smooth pencil-drop, putting me back in the right direction, and slid to the side. "_I know they talk a lot, but I'ma back it up and more. I show you what I mean, baby, all night long…_"

"_Girl you know! You ain't ever heard this like that, that like this – I'ma show you how that goes!_"

Okay, so, before you judge. It had been two hours. Two hours of straight walking, and there was nothing around for miles. As you can see, I was getting kind of desperate for some entertainment. And, being me, I can fulfill that purpose with relative ease.

And not like that, you pervs. I see you, and I got you.

"_Your lips, your thighs_," I swung my hips to the left, "_I ain't even looking in your eyes. I want you! I can't lie… I ain't even tryin' to waste no time!_"

"_But I like this, I'm about to put you on. Started on the bed, ended up on the floor. I know they talk a lot, but I'ma back it up and more. I show you what I mean, baby, all night long…_"

"M'lady! _M'lady_!"

Hold up. That was _not_ part of the song…

I frowned at that, and paused my iPod. When I turned around, I got the start of my life.

Sheep. A bunch of sheep were moving across the road where I was just walking. Like, _actual_ sheep. White, wooly sheep. White, wooly, surprisingly smelly sheep.

"_Ahem_!"

I jumped, looking at the back of the herd to see a scraggly looking old man leaning on a tall walking stick. His face was dark and leathery from years in the sun, and he wore thick, medieval traveling clothes. He was glaring at me.

Great. Two hours in a new world and I made my first enemy. Progress is progress.

"Uh…" I said, pulling my earbuds out of my ears cautiously. The man's eyes flickered to my iPod, then at me, his eyes narrowing. "Hi."

"What do ye think yer doing there, lassie?" He demanded. "Yer racket is causin' a stir throughout the _whole_ countryside!"

I arched an eyebrow, looking around us. There was still nothing or no one in sight, besides the sheep and the scraggly shepherd. "Correct me if I'm wrong, good sir, but I don't think there's much for me to _stir_ around here –"

"Who do yeh think you _are_?" He cried in exasperation. I took a step back. "Singin' yer _lewd_ songs out loud like that, wearin' those trousers, _dancing_! You must be part of them wild folk. Them _street_ performers!"

"Guilty!" I chirped in response. He only glowered at me. "I got separated from my group, you see. Do you think you could tell me which way they went?"

"_Humph_!" The man snorted. "They were headin' towards Bree. Wild folk, they are… If you knew what was good for ya, you'd go back to yer home!"

I smirked, quickly switching to a new song on my iPod. The music began to blare intensely, causing the man to start in surprise. His flock of sheep brayed in fright and scrambled away from me.

"I don't have a home," I replied. The man raised his brows a little, but couldn't say anything else. I was already jerking back, locking one of my ankles behind the other, and pulling a smooth pencil drop.

I spun and rose to my feet, facing the way I was going. "Bree is that way, right?"

When the man didn't answer, I craned my neck around. He then nodded weakly. "Aye," he answered.

"Excellent."

_**.M.I.W.**_

With two more hours of walking under my belt, and not being the least bit tired, night was quickly approaching. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting the sky in a pinkish glow.

The orange sun I'd been somewhat (I say somewhat because I don't know how to navigate using stars) using as my guide was hidden behind the very tall, very imposing wooden gate that blocked me from Bree.

I craned my neck back to look up at its overall tall-ness (that's right, we're making 'tall-ness' a word), and found myself frowning.

Apparently, one does not simply walk into Bree either, Sean Bean.

I reached forward and pounded on the wooden gate. "Hey!" I snapped. "Open up!"

Suddenly, a wooden slat in the gate that I hadn't seen slid open. I started as dark, beady eyes peered out over my head, then found me. The brows belonging to them furrowed.

"Who goes there?" The male voice snarled out, skeptical eyes trained on me.

I folded my arms across my chest. "My name is Madison Verdantia. Who are you?"

"Goatleaf," the man responded snarkily. "State your business here, Miss Verdantia, and why you are so armed."

"Have you heard the news?" I snapped. "This world isn't as safe as it used to be, old man. My business is mine to deal with, thanks."

"All right, all right," he answered, sliding the slat shut. For a second, I thought he'd locked me out, until I heard rustling behind the gate, and a small door opened. The man who I assumed was Goatleaf at this point, peered out, and gestured for me to follow him.

I slowly walked towards him, my hand automatically reaching for Metatron's hilt.

"You never know during these times," Goatleaf said conversationally as I walked through the door. "Like you said, this land has turned more dangerous. Have to check up on every traveler that enters 'round sunset."

"Right, yeah," I agreed halfheartedly, my eyes now focused on the town I saw in front of me.

Medieval, indeed, it looked like it did in the movie. The old (old, _old_) school Tudor-styled houses were squished together, some advertising different businesses. People walked and mingled about in the cobblestone streets, looking like they came out of a Renaissance fair themselves.

"I heard that a group of street performers were coming this way," I said. "Are they here?"

"Aye," the man replied. "A real riot, they are. I believe they're still performing in the town square."

I had a feeling I could locate the town square with relative ease. The town seemed small enough. I thanked the guy and started strolling off into the town.

_**.M.I.W.**_

Another hour later, and no closer to any town square, I decided I had a pretty useless sense of direction.

I wandered aimlessly through the town, the sun dipping lower and lower under the horizon. I realized I really had no plan of action. This was pretty much it. Find these street performers, maybe run into Frodo and Co. later, but right now? I had no money, no place to stay, nothing…

Crap.

So I continued to wander. And wander. And wander. I wandered through bustling town streets, immersing myself in the old culture. I looked at street signs and vendors selling rotting vegetables and fruits, a haggard woman peddling 'fresh spring blooms' from a basket on her arm. When I got tired of receiving odd looks which I was sure were due to my wardrobe and weaponry and the fact that I was a _girl_ doing these things, I relocated to scouring empty and narrow alleyways. I tiptoed through those, trying not to step on any homeless person or people's sewages thrown out on the street. The place smelled foul and I quickly moved on. I wandered through dirt lots that were occupied by wagons being pulled by horses. When I was sure no one was looking, I pet a couple of them, unable to restrain myself. By the time I finally found the town square, the street performers were already gone.

I told myself my wandering was all about getting the lay of the land, when really I was just trying to preoccupy myself from the huge expanse of _nothing_ I dragged myself into. If only I had something to do!

It was night now, and I pretty much cased all of Bree. It was a small place, after all. I ventured back out onto the main streets, a little relieved they were much less crowded. A lot of the houses and stores were bolted up for the evening, and bars started opening. Early drunks were already meandering about the roads, and a single carriage pulled by a tired looking horse lurched past me. Street lamps were lit with little flickering flames. I moseyed along through the streets, trying not to bring too much attention to myself. I looked up at the sky once I was at a street corner, seeing only blackness. Weird, I thought there'd be stars.

Suddenly, a crack of thunder peeled across the sky. I jumped in surprise, and quickly flipped up the hood of my jacket just before a sheet of rain descended on the town.

I turned around at the sound of boisterous laughter coming from one of the bars. A group of men filed out, laughing and gurgling and shouting obscenities. They were all large and muscular, probably farmworkers, five of them in total. I frowned and slowly backed away, meeting eyes with one of them just as I rounded the corner.

I began to look for safe refuge for the night. I made my way towards the Prancing Pony (which, yes, I totally fangirled over when I came across it), remembering an alley close to it that didn't seem too foul. I could hide there for the night and group up with Aragorn and Frodo the next morning. What else could I do?

"Oi, you there!"

Fuck.

I risked a glance over my shoulder, seeing the group of men walking towards me.

"Weird for a young lass like yerself to be wanderin' the streets at night!" One shouted. "Do you seek refuge in the allies?"

"Bet she's a common penny whore," another slurred. "What are your fees, streetwalker?"

Not really in the mood to mull over the phrase 'streetwalker,' I ducked into the first alley I could find, hoping they would be too large to fit. I kept my hands firmly fisted in my jacket's pockets, my swords brushing against my legs like they wanted me to use them.

No dice. I would not kill five dudes who weren't really involved in this story. I could hear them stumbling to keep up with me. Damn it all.

"_Wench_!" A man shouted, his voice echoing off the narrow brick walls. "You will turn when we summon you!"

I broke out into the town square then, and pulled out my swords. I flipped them experimentally in my hands, water flying off of them as I turned around to face the men walking out of the alley. My blades began to glow dimly, not breaking into full-out brightness, like they knew there wasn't a threat. I could scare these dudes off easy.

"Look, I don't want any trouble," I warned them. "But I'll give it to you if you want it."

"I wish for the trouble, lass," a man said, stepping towards me. "I wish for it greatly."

Before I could go at the guy, a shadow slipped out of the alleyway. My eyes widened when I saw a blade that _wasn't mine _pointed at the first man's throat.

"If you want to keep that tongue inside your mouth," the shadow hissed at the man, "you'll back the hell off."

I soon realized under the dim glow of the streetlamps that the shadow wasn't really a shadow at all. It was a man, dressed in a black cloak with the hood drawn over his face. He was tall, though. Almost the same height as the drunken guy, which seemed about six-foot-something.

The drunk man shuddered at the cloaked dude's threat, and nodded quickly. He slowly pulled the small dagger away from the drunk's throat. The band of farmhands didn't need that much more convincing after that. They were already scrambling off, leaving me to face the strange person in the town square.

"Hey, uh, thanks –"

Before I could even process what was happening, this cloaked crusader already made his way towards me. My swords belatedly blazed in challenge, and I swung out with Metatron. He barely made it to the side before I clipped his side with Sandalphon. He let out a loud, gruff curse, and pushed me back into yet another alley.

I let out a yelp of surprise when my back hit a wall. "What the hell, bro?" I shouted, reaching out to clip him again with one of my blades. The guy grabbed my wrists and held them against the wall. Pain shot up my arms at the guy's grip, and I ended up dropping my swords. They clanged on the streets almost musically, but it sounded painful to my ears. I was about to knee the guy until his full weight pressed against me. His body was warm against the chill of the rain, and I struggled against it.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"None of your goddamn business," I retorted. "Who the fuck are –?"

"All right, American," the guy said, musing. "That's a start."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wait, what? How do you know that – I –"

"Your name," the guy ordered. His eyes finally met mine, and I could see under the hood when we just hit the right amount of light.

Bright blue eyes met mine, so bright and pure they made mine feel plain. They seemed to be hiding a lot more emotion than just shock. His face was angular and young, maybe just a little bit older looking than me. He was in total period clothing, which made me doubt he was even for real.

"No, hold on, wait," I spluttered. "How do you even – it can't – _what_ –?"

"Please," the guy sighed. "In case you didn't notice, you're wearing a Led Zeppelin shirt. Kind of a dead giveaway. What are those swords –?"

My God. He knew Led Zeppelin.

"Back off!" I shouted, trying to push him away. It didn't do much good, though. This guy was way bigger than me. I couldn't take him strength-wise.

Suddenly, with a burst of power I didn't even know I had, I ripped my wrists from his hands, and shoved his chest. Hard. He flew back and hit the back of the wall across from me. I reached down to grab my swords, and held them out in front of me. They broke out into their original bright light without even needing to be commanded, shedding more light on the stranger.

His hood had fallen back, revealing wet, sandy blonde hair that was cut too short for the time period we were supposed to be set in. I glared at him while his focus was on my swords.

"How do those –"

"An-motherfucking-gelic divinity," I snarled. "And now that I have the upper hand, I want to know who you are."

He didn't say anything, his gaze flickering from me, to my swords, then back to me again.

I slowly lowered my swords, their light dimming, and sighed. "I see you're in too much awe to speak. That's okay, everyone is at first. Too gorgeous or too awesome, I never know which. Maybe it's both. Why don't we start off simple? My name is Madison Verdantia. Who are you?"

Before he could respond, a raspy scream shot through the air.

We both turned in the direction of the Prancing Pony, my heart thudding even faster in my chest. I turned around to see the guy –

He was gone.

I ran further back into the alley, peering around a corner to see he was nowhere to be found. My stomach flipped, and I sincerely hoped I wasn't hallucinating.

Another scream pierced the air of Bree.

"Fuck!" I shouted, and tore off towards the Prancing Pony, more confused than I'd ever been in my entire life.

_**.M.I.W.**_


	3. Because Why Not?

**ShoutOuts ~**

**Random Person 94:**** You shall know the answer all in good time, I promise!**

**AnimeVamp1997:**** Don't worry, we'll find out who our mysterious assailant is soon enough! Anways, hello! I've been meaning to message you, but I'll just ask now. You said you almost died? What happened? Bro, are you all right?**

**Trollalalala:**** Wow, thank you! And yes, sooner or later we will!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**I Can't Hear You**_** ~ The Dead Weather**

_**Talk No More**_** ~ The Black Ghosts**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**3. Because Why Not?**

I bolted down the cobblestone streets, trying to steer clear of anymore weirdos, though I doubted they would want to mess with me at this point. Teenage girl racing through the rain in the middle of the night with a pair of glowing swords? I wouldn't go near me, either.

As I ran, I thought of the alley I'd left behind, or rather, the person in it. Who the hell was he? How did he know Led Zeppelin? Why didn't he _stay_? Granted, I left one horrible first impression, but so did he.

Was I not as alone as I thought? Were there more people like me? I thought I was the only one. And then that dude came along, released one fucking killer bombshell, and disappeared into the black of night? Who _did_ that?

I knew there would be no way to find him as soon as I saw the alleyway was empty. He left me with just that one encounter, with more questions than ever before, and no way to find him. So I had to leave. I had to go where I was needed.

I squeezed out of the alley that led to the back of the Prancing Pony, seeing all of the lights out in the small inn. I dashed up to the back door and forced it open. The weak, rotting wood gave easily under my weight, and I stumbled into what was obviously a kitchen.

As soon as the door swung closed behind me, I was locked in a horrible atmosphere. Everything felt wrong. The darkness was too dark, the silence was too heavy. My skin tingled at the frosty chill in the air, and my swords were glowing too brightly. I quickly decided to stow them, and crept out into the pub's area. The only light was coming from streetlamps outside, but it was way too dim to count.

I stepped into the lobby, my boots barely making a sound on the wooden floor. I scanned the area, and heard a soft shuffling sound. Nearly silent, shuttering breaths. Whoever belonged to them was afraid. I doubted if I had average hearing, I wouldn't have caught it. Why did I still have enhanced abilities? After I died, I'd been purged of all illness, including a serum that gave me superhuman abilities but, when mixed with my natural adrenaline, made me throw up blood after a glorious rush of super-super adrenaline.

Delightful, right?

I know, I'm metal as hell.

It only solidified the fact for me that whoever – or whatever – brought me back to life wanted me for something, I just didn't know what.

I digress.

I slowly turned around, my vision cutting through the darkness and shadow to see a grizzly old man cowering under a table. I was in front of him in the next instant, crouching on the floor. The man flinched back in surprise, holding a candlestick in front of him as defense.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I said. "What's going on?"

The man's eyes were wide and horrified as they finally met mine. "R – R – _Ringwraiths_," he whispered.

The stairs creaked under someone's weight, followed by the light clanking sound of armor. I never heard a single step, but I just had a feeling something was coming closer. The man let out a breathless whimper, and I reacted on instinct.

"Stay quiet, and don't move," I hissed, and rose to my feet.

Oh man, my whole body felt like one sick livewire. My first fight ever in _Lord of the Rings_ was going to be against a bunch of the Nazgul? Oh _hell yes_! This was just what I needed. Fights on fights on fights to get me back in my groove. I could do this.

The room slowly started getting colder and darker. I reached for my swords' hilts, standing in the shadows in front of the man. A cold whisper of a breeze crept through the house, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

And then I saw them.

Nine figures floated down the stairs, all cloaked in tattered black robes. I stayed absolutely silent and still, suddenly debating on whether or not I should take them on. They still had shit to do in this plot, it probably wouldn't be a great idea to kill them all.

Which, yes, does sound incredibly arrogant, I know. But… I probably can.

So I stood silently, watching the figures in their robes sail past, armored fingers clinging to their blades, hissing and sounding like hot tea kettles. My heart dropped in my stomach, but I stayed rooted to my spot, somehow sure they wouldn't see me. I didn't know why, but I wasn't scared, not really. My heart was racing, but somehow it was from… excitement?

When I analyzed my emotions, my eyes widened.

Was I seriously fangirling right now?

Well, yes. I shouldn't even be surprised. Ever since I watched these movies I revered the Nazgul into being an epic opponent in battle. It would be so kickass to take one down – the best kind of trophy imaginable.

I heard the man shuffle further back into the shadows, and stiffened. The Nazgul moved swiftly and silently, as if not even aware of our presences. I frowned, but didn't make a move or sound to test otherwise.

Then, the monsters (spirits, people, creatures, what have you) moved right past us, and out the open door, slamming it shut behind them.

I let out a slow breath.

The inn was still cold and dark, but somehow I could feel the temperature picking up.

Okay.

"A – Are they gone?" The man whispered.

As soon as he asked, a sharp bray of a horse broke into the thick air. The man jumped, and I could hear his head slam against a table by mistake. A harsh screech sounded next, and the thundering of hoof beats on the ground started and faded away.

"Yeah," I said slowly, walking out into the middle of the inn's lobby. "They're gone."

I turned around and watched the man creep out from the table he was cowering under. He rose, set his candlestick on the table, and walked towards me. "What do you think they were here for?" He asked hoarsely.

I shrugged. "Don't know. But I'm here to find out. Maybe you can help me. I'm looking for a Ranger that goes by the name Strider. Is he here?"

The man frowned, looking lost in thought. "I… can't say, miss. We keep our clients confidential."

"I just protected you from those Wraiths," I said flatly. "I think you can let confidentiality slide."

The man didn't say anything, but he looked nervous.

I sighed loudly, and grabbed Sandalphon out of his hilt. "Okay," I said. "New offer then."

The sword burst into light at the challenge, and I flipped it confidently until it was level with the man's neck. His eyes widened and he started to tremble.

"You're going to tell me where the Ranger is," I informed him. "Or I'll slit your throat and find him myself. Personally, I think you should just go with option number one. It'll be a lot less messy."

The man let out a shuttering breath. I smirked, and began to touch the man's throat with the edge of my sword –

"All right, all right!" The man rasped, and I pulled Sandalphon back. "Third floor, second room on the left."

I put my seraph blade back in its hilt, and pulled back my hood. "There," I smiled. "Was that so difficult?"

_**.M.I.W.**_

I made my way upstairs, straightening out my jacket as I went. The stairs barely creaked under my weight, and I could hear peaceful snores of guests through the doors that I walked past. How could they not hear what just happened?

When I made it to the third floor and stood in front of the second room on the left, I paused. The air wasn't as thick as it first was when I walked in, and I was beginning to feel warmer again. Most traces of the Wraiths were gone, which meant I would be able to talk to Aragorn easier.

But that didn't stop me from holding Metatron's blade, just in case.

Slowly, I reached up and knocked on the door three times, and gripped my sword's hilt tighter. Who knew how they would react, knowing those Wraiths were out to hunt them down? I certainly didn't want to be mistaken for one of them, and get stabbed. Again.

No one answered the door for a few seconds, then, slowly, I watched the knob turn. I took one small step back, just to spread my stance in case I was going to be met with a sword.

Then the door opened. Just a crack, and whatever light was in the room was quickly absorbed by a tall, dark figure. I looked up, seeing a grizzly looking face with a scruffy beard and knotted hair. The person was tall.

"Um… hi," I greeted lamely. "I'm looking for a guy and four Hobbits. They're, like, half the size of normal people. Have you seen – _aagh!_"

I was yanked into the room by a strong, calloused hand. I wasn't at all ready for the sudden reaction, so I stumbled into the room and almost fell. Luckily, I caught myself, and reached for my swords –

Until I felt something cold, pointed, and sharp at my neck, just underneath my chin.

"Reach for them and you're dead," a gruff voice informed me.

"You know," I stated blandly. "On a list of greetings I would accept, this isn't one of them."

I quickly scanned the room. It was lit silver with the moonlight outside of the open window, and there was a dresser to my right that hugged the bare wall. To my left was a large bed. In it were four Hobbits. Two of them looked identical with curly ginger hair, another was larger set with sandy colored hair, and the last had dark hair and bright blue eyes.

Aha.

The blade dug into my neck, and I quickly looked at the figure in front of me. He was indeed tall, dressed in dark leathery-looking clothes. His beard was still scruffy, his dark hair was in disarray. He looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a month. But his gaze was cutting, slate-gray, and angry.

Aragorn.

It had to be him. Who else was there?

He wasn't exactly a Viggo Mortenson lookalike, though, which was what I was expecting. I mean, I guess they looked sort of alike, but there were also little things about him that were off. I couldn't exactly touch what. Maybe this guy was just more 'real life.'

"Is this how weak Sauron thinks us?" The man asked gruffly. "To send a child to do his bidding?"

"Hey, I am _not_ a child," I retorted. "And Sauron didn't send me."

Aragorn jerked the sword back, and stuffed it in his scabbard. I touched the spot at my neck where the tip of the blade was only seconds ago. I felt a small indentation on my skin, and swallowed.

"Then who are you?" He demanded.

"On your side, since that's what you mean," I said. "And my name is Madison Verdantia, rebel rouser, master twin-swordsman, and overall champion of the cosmos. I go wherever people need me and help out however I can."

"A mercenary then," Aragorn deadpanned. "I wouldn't make such claims when no one's ever even heard your name."

"Probably not, but that doesn't mean I'm not the real deal," I retorted, then looked at the Hobbits. "So, how about it? Need a hired hand?"

"No," Aragorn replied.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I wasn't asking you. Look, I've traveled a long way to get here for one reason and one reason only, and it's definitely _not_ for you."

Well, maybe in the future, but not right now.

"Then what is that reason?"

I looked at the dark haired, light eyed Hobbit looking on with frightened interest. "Frodo Baggins."

The man started to pull out his sword again as the Hobbit's eyes widened.

"Come on, you have to believe me!" I cried, taking a few steps back. I landed into the wall. "If I was on the other side, I would have killed you all _ages_ ago."

Okay, not exactly my best argument ever, but it would have to do since Aragorn had his sword pulled out again. I started pulling out my seraph blades.

"I highly doubt that," Aragorn said.

My blades lit up in their scabbards. "Dude, I really don't want to kill you."

"Perhaps we'll find out if you even can –"

"Stop!" A young voice called out, making the future king of Gondor pause.

A small figure leapt in between us. What I dimly realized was a Hobbit (and Frodo, no less) turned to me, with eyes so huge and honest it made me hug the wall even tighter. "Say your words are true, mercenary. What do you expect in return?"

I looked down at him, dropping my swords back in their scabbards. I didn't say anything for a second. What _could_ I say? The truth? Yeah, I'm from another world and there are some scary dudes who want me to be on their side, so I'm trying to hide in this world and decided, 'Hey, what better way to pass the time than going on a huge quest across Middle Earth? What do I want? Oh nothing, just the satisfaction that I'm here, in this world, fighting for one of my favorite heroes ever.'

Because that would fly over _so_ smoothly.

But Frodo Baggins, the small Hobbit-creature-person was looking up at me with enough open curiosity that I almost did tell the truth. I didn't know if I could even lie about something that just _had_ to be lied about. Another thing I didn't expect out of the Hobbit.

One does not simply lie to Hobbits, either.

"Nothing," I answered as truthfully as I could manage. "I just want to see something happen, that's all."

"Why?" Frodo pressed.

"Because… Because why not?" I shrugged. "Anyway, let's face it, that thing around your neck isn't some ordinary piece of jewelry. Everyone's dying to get their hands on it –"

"Indeed," Aragorn said, giving me a level look just as Frodo reached for his neck.

I glared back at Aragorn. "But I'm not going to be one of those people. I'll protect you with my life. You're trusting Aragorn on blind faith, why not me?"

"How do you know my name?" Aragorn demanded.

"How do I know Frodo's?" I demanded. "That's for me to know, and you to… uh… never know. Classified information, and all that jazz."

He gave me a weird look, and I realized he had no idea what jazz even was. Right.

Frodo didn't say anything for a minute or two, and slowly reached for something underneath his shirt on his chest. I didn't have time to look to see what he was reaching for, because I was focusing more on the movement Aragorn made out of the corner of my eye. I was glad to see he was only setting his sword on the dresser.

"All right," Frodo suddenly said. "You can accompany us, Verdantia. If you prove to be a liar, though –"

"Trust me, that's not going to happen," I said, smiling.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**What do you think?**


	4. The First Test

**Sorry for the delayed post, I just got my novel back from editing so I've got my nose to the grindstone again, and I'm writing a final research paper. We'll make this work, though, I promise!**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**marylopez0812:**** This quick enough for you? And I'm glad you like the story, it means a lot :)**

**AnimeVamp1997:**** Oh, trust me, there will be loads of badassery ahead, I promise. I'm trying to update as fast as I can so I can get to it! I hope everything is all right with you, here's something in an attempt to get your mind off things. Message me soon when you feel better!**

**Guest:**** Thank you so much! I'm glad Madi isn't a Sue. I'll try to make chapters longer, it just depends on the content, and since I am working on novels outside of this as well as school and work, updates will happen when I have the time. I hope you enjoy anyway and you'll bear with me.**

**trollalalala:**** Thanks! She's a strong character, so it isn't very hard to show off her personality.**

**Random Person 94:**** We'll see! **

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Astair**_** ~ Matt Costa**

_**Move/Stay**_** ~ Civil Twilight**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**4. The First Test**

With Frodo being the ruling party member, the decision for me to stay on the team was pretty final.

Now all I had to do was make Aragorn see that I wasn't a threat.

But… that wasn't really going to happen tonight.

An hour or so later, the Hobbits started falling asleep again. And they hit those pillows like bricks. I guessed I would have too, if it wasn't for the terrifying grizzly warrior glaring at me from across the room.

Aragorn was settled at the window, while I positioned myself near the door. My seraph blades were drawn over across my lap, and I watched as Aragorn puffed on a small pipe. He'd been staring at me for the past twenty minutes, and I'd been staring right back.

Finally, I broke the silence.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I said dryly.

His brows furrowed in response, and I suddenly realized a little too late that he wasn't going to understand my twenty-first century reference.

So I slumped further against the wall I was leaning on, and glared at my combat boots stretched out in front of me.

"Why don't you have a pack?" Aragorn suddenly demanded.

I looked up at him in surprise. "What?" I asked.

"You must have been traveling," he elaborated. "Yet you just arrive with nothing but the clothes on your back and weapons? It's… odd."

"Just put it on the list of reasons not to trust me," I said. "It must be growing."

"Indeed," he agreed. "You don't wear dresses, your clothes are made from strange material, you carry weapons as shamelessly as a child would carry their toys, your way of speaking is strange, and you don't have a traveling pack though you say you traveled a long way to get here."

I pulled my blades closer to me.

"How did you get here?" He asked.

"Walked," I replied too quickly.

"You look too well kept," he practically retorted. "Why are you so unprepared?"

"Thought I'd collect stuff on the way," I muttered.

He frowned.

"Yes, okay, I'm a little scattered," I replied. "I know. I just got out of some pretty… uh… nasty business, and I needed to lay low."

"So you're risking Frodo's life by possibly luring whoever you've crossed into our way?"

"No!" I snapped. "No. I made sure. No one's coming after me now."

"Then why do you need to… lay low?" Aragorn asked, testing the phrase for himself.

Now it was my turn to frown. "I've just… I've been kind of a big shot lately, in my own circles. People – powerful people – tried to use me as their personal assassin, which is the best way I can describe it. I'm trying not to attract any more attention to myself."

He nodded and finally looked away, seeming to focus on the floor as he puffed on his pipe.

"You _can_ trust me," I said. "One thing you should know about me is that when I swear myself over to someone, that's it. I'm not going to let Frodo down, and I'll prove it every opportunity I can get."

The man nodded slowly, then reached out with two fingers to snuff out the candle lit next to him. It cast the entire room in shadow, and I gripped my swords tighter.

"You ought to sleep," he said warningly. "We'll be walking a lot tomorrow."

"I'll sleep when you do," I replied.

_**.M.I.W.**_

Needless to say, I didn't sleep at all last night.

Around five o'clock in the morning, when the sun was just touching the horizon, Aragorn woke the Hobbits, and we headed out of Bree.

That'd been about three or so hours ago, and we've been walking since.

We trekked along the wilderness, across trails invisible to everyone except for Aragorn, who seemed to pick and choose the way he wanted to go. Of course, he was at the lead, while I was with the Hobbits, making sure no one lagged behind. The larger set Hobbit, who I guessed was Sam, pulled along a cream and white colored pony belonging to Aragorn. I couldn't believe I forgot there was a pony in this movie. I couldn't believe I forgot _Bill_ _the pony_ was in this movie.

The wilderness had thinned out from forest and into rocky planes. The sky was overcast and dark, seeming to hold a slight chance of rain. Ice cold winds would whip through on occasion, effectively cutting me to the bone. I had my jacket zipped up, my hood thrown over my head, and my hands jammed in my pockets. Even then, it was hardly enough to keep the chill away.

Aragorn was right to question me. My story didn't add up at all. How the fuck would I survive traveling through all of this? It wasn't one of my best lies, to be sure. But hey, I had been preoccupied with settling scores with demons, dying, and trying to find a place to hide so I could _live_. Sue me for forgetting a change of clothes.

"So… a mercenary," a thin, red haired Hobbit asked, giving me a sidelong look as he walked beside me. I wasn't sure if he was Merry or Pippin, so I'd wait for introductions.

"Well, I guess if that's the only way to describe it, then sure," I said.

"Rather odd choice of profession for a woman," the Hobbit noted. "Are you a spy then? That would make more sense. Having such beauty could only be used for deceit if you are a mercenary."

"What? No, that's definitely not the case," I laughed, trying to wave him off.

He shrugged, having a knowing gleam in his eye. "It ought to be, my lady. My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck, of the Shire. Friends call me Merry, which you must do. We did not have the chance to meet last night."

"Madi Verdantia," I smiled. "It's very nice to meet you."

Merry took my hand and immediately tried to kiss it, until he stumbled over a loose rock and his hold slipped. "Believe me," he said as he caught balance, "the pleasure is mine."

"And I'm Peregrin Took!" The other small, red haired Hobbit called out, starting to run up to Merry and I. "But everyone calls me Pippin. I've never met a mercenary before, Miss Verdantia."

"Just Madi," I corrected him. "And I guess the feelings are mutual, because I've never met a Hobbit before."

"How did you come to hear of our quest?" Merry asked.

All of the Hobbits had now centered their focuses on me as I stepped over a rock. "Well," I said, situating my swords, "through lots of people. I travel a lot, really, and I've been hearing people talk about Rings of Power and Shires and Hobbits and stuff, so I decided I should check it out. It was really a matter of time before I'd find you guys."

"Where have you traveled to?" Pippin asked.

"Umm…"

I ducked around a large shrub, trying to come up with a half-decent lie to tell. The truth was I didn't know the _Lord of the Rings_ world as well as I should have. I only knew about the Shire, Rohan, Osgiliath, Lothlorien, and Gondor. That was not enough.

"A little bit of everywhere, really," I said. "Small villages no one knows the names of, you know, just… everywhere."

"Have you seen Elves?" The larger Hobbit, Samwise, piped up.

"No, but I've seen their kin. They were called Fae and I did some contract work with them."

"What's a Fae?" Pippin demanded.

"No one you'll ever want to meet," I replied. "They're evil bastards, cunning, insanely beautiful. That's how they lure their prey in, with their beauty. Their looks are so unreal that you're instantly drawn. But it's really just a mask called a glamour. Not a lot of people can see through it except for a few, like me. If you can see through it, you realize that the Fae are hideous, ugly things. Sometimes they have antlers on their heads, green skin, birdcages for bodies instead of flesh, or branches for arms and legs. They make you go insane or kill you, just for the sport of it. Never trust one of the Fae, ever. They only look out for their own interests and they'll do anything to get what they want."

"Wow," Merry breathed.

"You must have many more stories," Pippin observed.

"Definitely," I agreed.

"You should tell us some, over breakfast!" Pippin decided. "When are we getting it?"

"You've already had it," Aragorn called, making our company turn to the ranger disappearing behind some undergrowth.

"We've already had one, yes," Pippin agreed, "but what about second breakfast?"

Aragorn didn't answer. I heard him soldiering on ahead, a few yards ahead of the group. I started to walk faster, until I noticed Pippin wasn't moving. When I turned around, I was rewarded with Pippin looking like he didn't understand what was happening.

Merry trekked past him, resting a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "Don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip," he said.

The group started walking past him, leaving Pippin to run after us. "What about elevensies?" He demanded, looking at anyone who would listen. "Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? _Supper_? He knows about them, don't he?"

Suddenly, an apple went sailing through the air, almost hitting Merry in the face. I snatched it quickly out of the way before it could happen, and offered it to Merry.

He in turn took the apple, and handed it to Pippin. "I wouldn't count on it," he explained gently to a shell-shocked Pippin, and disappeared behind the brush Aragorn had.

Another apple flew over the brush, hitting Pippin square in the chest. He fumbled to catch it, and quickly stumbled after Merry, leaving me to take up the rear of the group.

Samwise also stayed behind, towing along Bill the pony behind him. He kept sneaking me skeptical looks I didn't know how to react to. Then, he would lean over to Frodo, and whisper things to him even I had trouble hearing due to the winds picking up.

But then as it died, I caught snippets of, "How should we trust them? Where is he taking us?"

"To Rivendell, Mister Gamgee," Aragorn responded to the latter.

Samwise's eyes widened. "Rivendell? Mister Frodo, did you hear that? We're going to see the Elves."

"We'll make camp up ahead," Aragorn called. I stepped around the undergrowth and saw the ranger gesture at an abandoned watchtower, or at least I remember it being a watchtower or something.

It was crumbling to pieces, isolated and forgotten on the barren plains we traveled. The overcast sky above created a tense atmosphere that was just a little more creepy than not.

But, hey, what am I if afraid of a little creepy?

_**.M.I.W.**_

Evening came with more wind and more cold. Aragorn, the Hobbits and I settled in one of the watchtower's gaping holes in its stone foundations. It did little to protect us from the wind, but at least it was better than making camp at the top, which was a flat surface that would make sleeping at least a little comfortably impossible.

I sat near the edge of the group, looking out onto the plains as even darker clouds rolled in. I reached for the hilt of Sandalphon, rubbing my thumb across the surface. I remembered what would be coming tonight. It would be my first test.

"In case of attack," Aragorn said. I looked up in time to see the man hand Merry, Pippin, Samwise, and Frodo four knife-like weapons. They were a little too long to be daggers, but too short to be considered swords.

The Hobbits looked at the blades like they would spring to life and bite them. I guessed I looked like that when I held a seraph blade for the first time. Well, maybe I looked a little more in awe about the whole thing, since I wanted a weapon. Jeremiel. It was a great blade, until it got disintegrated by demon ichor.

"I will take the first watch," the ranger went on. "Lady Madison will take the second."

"She prefers Madi," Merry said, grinning like a jackass.

Aragorn just looked at me.

I shrugged. "It's less of a mouthful."

He didn't say anything, and turned to make his way to the top of the watch tower.

One does not simply make friends with Aragorn, either.

_**.M.I.W.**_

I dozed on and off for the rest of the evening, keeping a careful watch over the Hobbits. Frodo ended up sitting close to me, then laying down, then falling asleep. He didn't say anything, but I was kind of glad he kept close. It made me think he at least trusted me enough for him to sleep while I kept watch. Afterwards, the rest of the Hobbits did the same, Samwise being the most wary.

A few hours later, the clouds cleared and stars dotted the sky. I heard Aragorn drop back into our little sanctuary. I gripped my swords when I only saw his dark figure emerge, and pulled myself to my feet. When I saw his face in the moonlight, I relaxed.

"How long have they been asleep?" He asked, looking down at the sleeping Hobbits.

I shrugged. "Couple of hours, wasn't really keeping track of time."

Pippin stirred at our conversation, and Aragorn jerked his head back the way he'd come. I nodded and followed him.

We climbed up to the large, flat surface that now acted as the top of the watchtower. It was still dark and cold, but not as windy. I was sure the structure went a lot higher from where it stood now, but either attack or neglect shrunk its once mighty appearance. Rubble lay everywhere from what could have been walls and stone pillars were knocked in half, creating plenty of hiding places and vantage points. You could play a kickass game of laser tag here.

"I'll keep watch until morning," I suggested.

"Fair enough," Aragorn nodded. "At the first sign of trouble, you must find me. What hunts Frodo Baggins is no mere bounty –"

"I know," I replied, indignant. "Trust me, I've been around the block once or twice… or a million with this kind of thing. I've taken down monsters way worse than these things. Don't worry."

"You are a fool to think you can take the Nazgul so easily. You are a child –"

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_!" I snapped, reaching for my swords. "Call me anything you want, but _child_? You have _no_ idea what I've been through. I know my life seems relatively short to you, but trust me when I say I'm no child."

Aragron shook his head and scoffed –

Anger hit me hard and fast. "You think I'm kidding?" I demanded. "Maybe we'll just have to prove it then, to get you off my back, fucking son of a –"

A loud screech pierced the night air, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Both Aragron and I froze, my hands clamped down on the hilts of my seraphs.

"Put it out you fools, _put it out_!" I heard Frodo cry, his small voice echoing across the plains.

I whipped out my swords as another screech sounded, this time closer. The blades burst into their usual light, standing out like fallen stars against the darkness.

Aragorn's eyes widened as he looked at me with a mixture of incredulousness and awe. "What are you?" He hissed.

I flipped my swords, smirking. "Not a child, that's for sure. You catch them by surprise, I'll distract them."

He hesitated.

Distinct scrabblings of many feet and metallic clinks of swords against rock distracted me. I heard hoarse whispers and orders from Samwise, trying to get Merry and Pippin into an ideal formation of defense.

Hobbits. Right.

I turned to Aragorn, "I'll take care of the Hobbits. They're coming up now."

Without another word, his disappeared amongst the rubble.

"Where's Aragorn?" Pippin piped up as the four Hobbits made their way towards me. "Oh! Madi!"

"Look at her swords," Samwise hissed. "Is she a wizard?"

"Get behind me," I commanded. "Frodo, stay close. For the love of fuck, guys, pull out those swords!"

"Who is Fuck –?"

A weird, tingling feeling jumped up and down my spine. I stiffened in surprise, and clutched my swords, making them shine brighter. What was _that_?

The air got colder and crisper; my breath came out in puffs.

"Is he your deity –?"

"Guys! Shut! _Up_!" I hissed, whirling around to glare at my wards.

Then, the world became entirely too quiet.

And way too still.

I froze on instinct, keeping my body angled towards the Hobbits, trying to assess what was going on without having to move. I only heard Samwise's ragged breaths as he fought down his fear, Pippin's nervous fiddling with his sword's hilt, Merry swallowing in nervousness, and Frodo letting out a shallow, shaky breath. They all looked up at me, eyes wide and bodies stiff. They clutched their swords, tiny knuckles turning white at the pressure.

"I'll get you through this," I said as evenly as I could. "I'll keep you all safe. I promise. Everything's going to be all right."

Another tingle shot up my spine just as Frodo gasped, and I turned back around.

Nine cloaked figures seemed to just _appear_ at the far edges of the abandoned building. I couldn't see their faces, but they were tall, imposing. Their black cloaks almost made them disappear into the night, the fabric snapping quietly in each biting breeze. Other than that, they stood as quietly and stoically as a grave.

I flipped my swords, sucking in a steadying breath when I felt my heart rate spike.

"So these are the Nazgul?" I asked no one in particular. I shifted forward, and watched the cloaked figures begin to pull out their blades simultaneously. The sound cut through the noiseless air, like a rock sliding over ice.

I took a step forward.

Their blades rose, which made me pause. They held them parallel to their bodies out in front of them. Other than that, they didn't move.

I grinned.

I heard the metal armor wrapped around their hands tighten on the hilts of their blades.

I took another, more daring step forward, and dropped to a mocking bow. "At you're ready, gentlemen!"

They began to advance. Only their clinking metal steps, the Hobbit's heavy breathing, and my laugh could be heard.

"Back in black," I growled to myself, and then raised my voice, "Come on, then! Let's see how well you take an angel blade _to the face_."

_**.M.I.W.**_

**I had WAY too much fun with the Nazgul. What do you guys think?**


	5. Of Stab Wounds and Elvenkind

**What is this?! A quick update? I'm shocked at myself for cranking this out so quickly. But here you go, guys!**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**InOnePiece:**** Yeah, I know, I was horrible for the cliffhanger! But if I hadn't ended it there, it would have gone on way longer! So glad that you like it, though! I updated as fast as I could for you!**

**trollalalalala:**** Exactly! It's the reason why she's a favorite character of mine. Madi is a mindless soldier. She roves around worlds looking for her next set of orders, another town to burn, her next victim, and so on. The most tragic part is that she doesn't even realize it. Her loyalty is a force to be reckoned with, because it's her greatest strength as well as her greatest weakness. Right now, it's killing her because she gives it away to characters who are incredibly flawed, corrupt, and should **_**not**_** be in control of such a chaotic, ruthless person. What's horrifying is that Madi **_**knows**_** how bad these people are, and she **_**doesn't care**_**. She **_**wants**_** to be corrupted. You said she bordered on stupid and courageous, and I don't know which one she is. I guess it's an essential question to her character. Is Madi courageous for jumping into all of these worlds and fighting obstacles for the things she cares about? Or is she stupid, because she lets herself be influenced so easily by the people she idolizes? Sorry for the long response, I just thought it was awesome you pointed that out.**

**AnimeVamp1997:**** If I continued the chapter, it would have been about ten pages longer, because I really wanted to focus on the fight scene haha. So I made it a two-parter instead. I know, it is annoying with the whole Aragorn situation, but you're also right because he's acting the way someone **_**should**_** when dealing with Madi. Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Back in Black**_** ~ AC/DC**

_**Month of Sundays**_** ~ Passenger**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**5. Of Stab Wounds and Elvenkind**

Have you ever been in a situation where everything moves about a hundred times slower than the speed it should actually be going?

No, really, hear me out. Say you're, like, in a speeding car and you cross an intersection at the wrong time. Or, maybe you're an awesome driver and another car crosses the intersection at the wrong time. Either way, it looks like somebody's about to get T-boned.

People, even people in books, talk about how sometimes in high pressure situations, shit moves about a million times slower than the rate it should be moving. In movies you see it all the time. Where things seep into slow motion so you can see every detail. Every single second turns into a minute, and everything is perfectly clear.

Well, here's a pro-life-tip for you.

Fighting Nazgul don't create slow-motion situations. They're fast, and give you absolutely no time to react whatsoever.

One second the Nazgul marched up to us at a steady, ready pace.

But then I took a step forward to meet them head on, and all hell broke loose.

They all swept forward at once, moving at inhuman speeds that easily surpassed mine.

Pure instinct drove me as I reacted with brutal force as each attack hit me.

I threw my swords up in a defensive 'x' as I saw a blade chopping downwards to me. I let out a bewildered yell/scream/curse/yelp/what-have-you as metal clanged against metal. I parried the blade off with Metatron and swiped forward with Sandalphon, making the large cloaked being fly back with an eardrum-piercing screech.

Before I had the chance to think, I was already at the end of another blade coming straight towards my face, ducking under it, and swiping against the abdomen of another Nazgul.

I finally tracked the Hobbits, huddled close together and keeping Frodo at the center as they tried to fight off the monsters. I narrowed my eyes and shot forward, wondering when the hell Aragorn would actually show up.

I leapt up and swiped at another Nazgul, but it zipped back before I had the chance to hit it. I slid to a stop in front of the Hobbits, glancing around at the advancing Ringwraiths.

"All right," I gritted my teeth and swung in a wide arc with both blades, spinning them simultaneously above and around my head until I drew them in front of me, locked in their usual 'x' formation.

"Back _off_!" I shouted.

Two tattered black pieces of cloth fluttered before my eyes, and before I could react, I felt a sharp blow to my side. I flew away from the Hobbits and landed back-first into a stone column, slumping to the ground like the limp socks you throw across your room after a long day of wearing them.

"Madi!" Frodo shouted.

I gasped for air, my eyes widening when the Nazgul came up on the Hobbits. They pushed Merry and Pippin out of the way with ease, and they too went stumbling off. I scrambled to grab my swords, the blades lighting back up at my touch.

I ran forward just as one of the monsters pushed Samwise out of the way. Frodo stumbled back, dropping his blade in fear. I struck out hard and fast, creating a deep 'x' shaped cut on the back of the Nazgul.

"Don't you _dare_ turn your back on me," I snarled, kicking the Ringwraith down.

It flitted out of the way, and I jumped in front of Frodo, holding my blades out defensively again. The Nazgul circled us, no longer interested in Merry, Pippin, or Samwise. Frodo was the target. I was the annoying gnat in their way.

Instead of going straight for the cloaked demons, I stayed rooted to my spot in front of Frodo, making sure I wouldn't get pulled away again. The wait was torture, letting the monsters corner us into an area walled off by rubble. Frodo pressed into the corner of a half-torn down wall, and I stood only inches in front of him. I held firm, tightening the grip on my swords, grinding my teeth together. I narrowed my eyes as the Nazgul loomed closer.

Then they struck.

"Duck!" I shouted back to Frodo as my heart jumped into my throat. He immediately shrunk down to crouching against the wall, covering his head with his arms.

_Clang!_

One of the Nazgul's blade landed in the center of my swords held in their typical 'x' form. Metal scraped against metal, and tiny, silver and black sparks ignited, singing my hands and fingers, not even putting a dent in my gear. Thank you, extra-strong Shadowhunter material.

A harsh glint broke my focus as another blade struck out, trying to stab at Frodo.

"No!" I shouted, stomping hard on the blade.

_Crack!_

The sword's metal cracked in half, its tip clattering on the stone ground before my combat boots. I shoved the Nazgul sword between my blades aside with Sandalphon, parried, and stabbed into the thing's face. It let out a screech that pierced my bones, but I focused on the next Nazgul whose blade I'd broken. I stabbed forward with Metatron, but it slipped away with a hiss before I could hit it. The other Nazgul I hit swept backward and fell off the edge of the watchtower.

Two more Ringwraiths came hurtling towards us, a warmth burst from my chest and stretched through my entire body. But not in an angry way, or the artificial super-adrenaline-serum way.

After fighting demons, vampires, werewolf-things, and witches, you become sort of immune to battle anxieties and jumpiness. At least, I have. Instinct takes care of that when I'm too overwhelmed to pull my usual shit. After about a year of fighting constantly, you find a center, lock down and become a total machine powered by the primal instinct to _protect_. Protect your ward, whatever it is, at any cost, no matter what.

Because of this, I was driven by the sudden impulse to meet the Nazgul head on. To protect the ward.

What I didn't expect was the third Ringwraith that totally fucking blindsided me. I spun sharply to the side, blocking the oncoming blade with Metatron. I swung Sandalphon high over my head, and used the momentum to slash the monster's neck.

I ducked out of the way of its fury, darting after the two Nazgul. I swiped out and clipped one in the side, and reached for the other one –

Until I was stopped short by… a thing.

A hot, dark, heady thing that pulsed through me, cut me off, made my eyes widen. A strange want coursed through my veins, and clouded my thoughts. Something called to me like a siren song, the heat and darkness too much to bear and not enough at the same time. Against all common sense, I turned away from the Ringwraith to track the source of the strange… thing.

I found it in the corner where I'd left Frodo, but didn't look at him. Instead, my gaze was on a gold, glinting thing. It was small, and round, and smooth, and warm, and dark, and whispering weird things I didn't understand. But I wanted it, and that was all that mattered.

That was the ward, wasn't it?

A loud hiss broke through my thoughts, and I turned to look at the dark cloaked thing in my way. Couldn't it see I was in the middle of something?

Then its sword rose, and came towards me. All reality sunk in then, cutting me off of the weird feeling, and my eyes widened at the painful truth I now found myself faced with.

God fucking damn it –

A club of fire struck the Nazgul in the face, held by Aragorn. He had a dark look on his face as he sent the Nazgul now on fire tumbling off the watchtower's edge as well.

He turned to me, eyes wide and sparkling with malice. "Where's Frodo?" He demanded in a gravelly voice.

I spun around to look at the corner I'd left him in, where the gold circle thing was (which, yes, I now realized was my first sighting of the motherfucking Ring of goddamn Power), my heart sinking.

He wasn't there.

"I –"

A loud, pained scream filled the night air. Aragron and I both spun around, finding Frodo at the mercy of a Nazgul and its blade.

"Not in my division!" I snarled, and ran forward.

I whipped both blades forward, narrowing my eyes at the asshole who decided to fuck with my ward.

"You picked the wrong night to be alive," I said warningly, swinging out with both blades in a wide arc. It hit the Nazgul across its stomach and side. It let out a loud hiss, and jerked its blade out of Frodo's chest to swing out at me.

I dodged it narrowly, swiping out with Metatron to clear its chest. It tried to flit backwards, but I was already on its tail, using my own speed to my advantage. It stood at the edge of the building, and I didn't waste any time in kicking it over the side. It toppled over and down, until its black robes disappeared into the night.

I looked over the edge of the watchtower, looking down into the dark shadows where the ground lay. I couldn't see anything, I had no clue if they survived (they probably did, though), but the sound of ragged wheezing cut my hopes of pursuit short.

I whipped around, quickly stowing my swords and running back to the small group surrounding a small, injured Hobbit.

"The sword was poisoned," I reported, dropping to my knees at Frodo's side. He twitched and wheezed and foamed at the mouth, his skin going deathly pale. I felt a warm, dark hum from the clutches of his hand. My stomach clenched.

"Yes, that can be easily ascertained," Aragorn said dryly. "We need to get him away from here, towards Rivendell. Elvish medicine will save him."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Got it."

Aragorn leant down and pulled Frodo into his arms. The Hobbit looked like a small child in his arms, making my stomach twist in guilt.

_**.M.I.W.**_

We made it to a forest a mile or so away from the watchtower. It wasn't far, but it had to do. Merry and Pippin carried torches, while I had my swords out at the ready, their blades shining. Samwise trailed behind, pulling a stubborn Bill along.

I kept as far away from Frodo as I could manage, deciding there was no chance in hell I would put myself anywhere near the Ring if my life depended on it. Sure, I'd protect Frodo with my life, but I was going to make sure I wouldn't kill him on accident either.

Aragorn had to set Frodo down after carrying him for so long. He was doing even worse. His eyes were rimmed with red, and he'd broken out in a sweat.

"Is he going to die?" Pippin asked, panicked as he leaned towards Frodo. I rested a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.

"No," Aragorn replied. "He is passing into the shadow world. He will soon become a wraith like them."

The mournful, angry wail of a ringwraith carried through the air, and Frodo gasped in pain, arching his back. I tightened my grip on Pippin's shoulder.

"Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?" Aragorn asked Samwise hurriedly.

The Hobbit frowned, "Athelas?"

"Kingsfoil?" Aragorn supplied

"Kingsfoil?" Samwise's face twisted in disgust. "Aye, that's a weed."

"It may help slow the poison," Aragorn explained. "Help me find it. Lady Madi, stand guard."

"Roger that," I choked, gripping my swords' hilts tightly as the two disappeared into the undergrowth.

I backed up and knelt down next to Frodo, stowing my swords. The dark hum of power coming from his coat pocket pulled me, but it wasn't as strong as it had been earlier. I could tell it was there, but it was easier to ignore. Frodo gasped and hissed in pain, and I hesitantly reached out to rest my hand on his small shoulder.

"Will he live?" Pippin demanded, his torch flickering as he shifted around me.

"Not with you asking every moment," Merry snapped. I sighed.

"He'll be all right," I said. Frodo survived this entire story. The fact I was even here made it even more obvious he would (not trying to be cocky, but come on). Of course he'd pull through this. "You're going to make it Frodo. Just hold on."

Five minutes or so later, Samwise stumbled out of the undergrowth, a bundle of Kingsfoil in his hands. He sunk down to his knees at Frodo's side, looking at the useless flowers in his hands. "I don't know what to do," he said, dejected.

I sifted through my memories, trying to remember how Aragorn administered the plant to Frodo's wound.

I reached forward, pinching some of the weeds out of his hands. I cleared away the roots and sucked on the stems, squeezing the buds for good measure. The plant tasted tinny in my mouth, and I spat it out to press it into Frodo's stab wound. He gasped in pain, but he seemed more soothed a few moments later.

"It won't last him long," I said, "but it'll do for now. Where's Aragorn?"

Samwise looked at me blankly. "Ara –"

"Strider," I corrected myself.

Suddenly, more rustling sounded from the bushes, and I could hear two separate sets of footsteps. I pulled out my swords and stepped over Frodo's body and Samwise, hoping I would be enough to save them.

Two figures emerged from the wood, and my swords blazed in light.

Aragorn walked out, followed by a young woman. She was incredibly beautiful, with long brown hair that was plaited back even though it looked a little tousled. She wore a long, tough looking dress spattered with mud. A white horse followed her with steps so quiet I had ignored it.

"Who is she?" The woman asked in a quiet, smooth voice.

"Madi Verdantia," I said, rising to my feet.

"Are you magic?" She inquired. "Your swords –"

Frodo let out a gasp, which distracted her. She stepped around me, gently pushing me out of the way, as she looked over Frodo.

"_Frodo, Im Arwen…_" she murmured in a language I didn't understand, "_telin let thaed. Lasto Beth nin, tolo Dan na ngald._"

Well, that was a lie. I knew a bit of Elvish. Not at all enough to say I was qualified in any way whatsoever, but enough to know that was Arwen. Not that context clues didn't help either, but still. It's cooler to think I knew Elvish over context.

"Who is she?" Pippin demanded, growing more and more frantic by the second.

Arwen didn't bother to answer, turning her head to look up at Aragorn. It exposed pointed ears, and my eyes widened, and my inner fangirl _squeed_ in excitement.

"She's an Elf," Samwise replied, awe in his voice.

"He's fading, he's not going to last," she told Aragorn as she stood up. "We must get him to my father."

Aragorn knelt down and picked Frodo up again, this time setting him on the horse's back.

"I have been looking for you for two days," she went on. "There are five wraiths behind you, where the other four are, I do not know."

"Where are you taking him?" Pippin demanded, getting angrier. He looked up at me, trying to find an answer.

"_Dartho guin Berian… rych le ad tolthathon_," Aragorn said as he made Arwen pause in taking her reigns.

I had no idea what they were saying now. It was the most irritating thing in the world. Worse than hearing other people talk in languages you don't understand. Because this shit was important, I knew I was missing half of it.

Arwen shook her head, "_Hon mabathon. Rochoh ellint im._"

Aragorn frowned, resting his hand on hers. "_Andelu I ven._"

"_Frodo Fir_," Arwen argued. "_I hir, tur gwaith nin beriatha hon._"

"What are they saying?" Pippin muttered, sullen and angry. I shrugged and gestured vaguely to them.

"Couple things," I replied. "Boring couple things."

Arwen and Aragorn shared a long, soul-staring look that was totally mushy to the whole world except for those two. I frowned and crossed my arms across my chest, huffing. "Any day now."

"I do not fear them," Arwen said.

Aragorn finally let her go, and she mounted her horse, clutching Frodo against her.

"Arwen…" Aragorn said. "Ride hard, and don't look back."

She kicked the sides of her horse, urging it forward. "_Noro Lim, Asfaloth, Noro Lim!_"

The horse shot forward, and Samwise stumbled after her, only to have Aragorn catch him by the shoulders. "What are you doing?" Samwise shouted. "Those Wraiths are still out there!"

"She knows what she's doing," I said, looking at Aragorn.

He nodded to me. "We must make our way to Rivendell," he said, reaching out to take Bill's reigns. "We will make our way there in three days' time, while Arwen will make it there in two."

I prodded Pippin forward, while Merry followed close to my side. Samwise clung to Bill, taking back the reigns from Aragorn to soldier ahead.

_**.M.I.W.**_


	6. Foggy

**Okay, I swear I'm not being sloppy guys. Is FanFiction being weird and not underlining all of my things? I'm going through previous chapters and noticing things are being left un-underlined that should be, like my 'themesongs' title and the shoutouts. Weird.**

**Well, school has ended, so that means more time for updates, and novel editing. Yay!**

**I also just got an AO3 account, which is another fan fiction site. I'm wondering if I should edit and post these stories on that site as well. What do you guys think? Yay or nay?**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**CuciBurga:**** Aww thanks haha. Definitely going to keep going, and hopefully the updates will be faster since school is ending for me this week.**

**Trollalalala:**** Yay for squealing? Haha, yeah Madi's take on romance has always been a little, shall we say… bitter? But, can we necessarily blame her? She just broke up with a Fae knight in her last story, so she's a little raw from the experience. We'll see if this turns out to be a romance or not. And okay, awesome! I was worried that I freaked you out with me going all writer-y on you, but I'm glad you liked it!**

**BloodsuckerHater:**** Oh yeah, exams, don't you just love them? Totally feel you on that end, they're insane. At least you did good, though, right? So glad I was worth the wait! Enjoy the chapter!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Who's Feeling Young Now?**_** ~ Punch Brothers**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**6. Foggy**

Two days of walking in complete and utter slow motion pretty much killed me.

The Hobbits had no idea how to handle anything, constantly chattering about Frodo's welfare and Pippin whined about food. Which was understandable. I was hungry too. Not eating in two days made me irritated and a little desperate as I ushered the Hobbits along. They didn't understand anything about rough travel (I barely did myself), which was also understandable. But it didn't make it any less annoying.

Dusk crept up on us as we traveled through the thick wilds. Aragorn helped Samwise (who later insisted on being called Sam) pull Bill through a shallow, fast moving brook filled with icy cold water, while I helped Pippin and Merry cross over a trail of stones. By the time we made it to the other side, making sure the Hobbits were secured, I heard the thundering sounds of hoof beats crashing through the forest.

"I hear horses," I said, pulling out my swords.

The others heard it a few moments later, and they were only coming closer and closer. The Hobbits huddled behind me, and Aragorn stepped out in front.

"Who goes there?" Aragorn demanded. When we didn't get an answer, my swords slowly started to light up.

"Maybe I should be in fr –"

"Don't be ridiculous," Aragorn said. "You can't even fight."

I wheeled back as if I'd been slapped, the Hobbits stumbling behind me. "_Excuse_ me –"

Four white horses skidded to a stop in front of us, and my swords blazed. I turned towards the riders, frowning at the purple silk robes they seemed to sport. I glowered at them, and stepped forward, until Aragorn pushed me back.

"Stay quiet," he commanded. "The Elves won't appreciate your mouth."

"Elves?" Sam asked, eyes widening.

"Aragorn?" One of the elves questioned. "_Ya naa tanya?_"

"_Melloneamin_," Aragorn answered, "and friends of the Elves."

"Her name," another elf barked. "She is the witch girl with the star blades? She is not what was described to us."

"She is no witch," Aragorn answered. "And is –"

"Verdantia," I answered, gently nudging Aragorn to ease his defensiveness. "My name is Madi Verdantia. And don't worry about the descriptions. Words never really do me justice."

One of them snorted. "Perhaps they do after all. We shall accompany you to Rivendell."

_**.M.I.W.**_

The halls of Lord Elrond's castle were cut from what looked like marble. They were open and ivy and flowers curled along its walls, around its pillars, and seeped into the hallways. They were filled with silver light from the moon. The air tasted crisp and clear, overly sweet and exhilarating as it entered my lungs – too pure to take in. I wasn't used to it.

Maybe that was why I couldn't sleep.

I prowled around the castle, clinging to the shadows, my hood drawn over my head. I kept close to the suite Sam, Pippin, and Merry had been housed in. From what I remembered, it'd been a huge space with plenty of room for four Hobbits.

Of course, I'd been shown a room as well, and it may have looked nice, but I didn't even step inside. I tried to ask about Frodo and his health, but apparently I wasn't allowed in. If I couldn't guard Frodo, then his friends were my next priority. As the bossy elves left me, I'd already doubled back to guard Sam, Pippin, and Merry.

That had been around two o'clock in the morning. It edged on four now.

Finally giving up, I crouched in the shadows near the suite's door, sitting on the hard ground. I stared out onto the courtyard in the middle of the corridors, a little green paradise filled with budding flowers and mossy rocks. A pond sat in the middle, its water rippling with light breezes.

I folded my arms on top of my knees, pulling them closer to my body as I tucked myself into a small, black ball, waiting for the night to end, thinking hopefully tomorrow I could see Frodo, not let him out of my sight.

So I waited, hugging my seraph blades close to my body.

Thirty minutes later, I heard muffled footsteps, and perked up. Walking towards me down the hall was a figure cloaked in black, tattered gear and thick boots. Through the darkness, I could see his face under the hood, the bright eyes a dead giveaway.

"I thought you'd be with your girlfriend," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. It ended up a little bitter at the end, but hey, I just got out of a relationship where the dude I was somewhat-but-not-really with thought I was a phase he had to grow out of. So excuse me for being bitter.

Aragorn shook his head, and leaned against the column across from me. "You should know you're safe here," he said. "The Hobbits are not threatened in Rivendell."

I shrugged, focusing my attention on my knees. "Call it guilty conscience," I muttered.

He didn't say anything, pulling out a pipe instead. He lit it easily, already beginning to take long drags and letting out huge puffs that dissolved in the night air. We didn't say anything for a while longer, until thoughts from the other day began to fester in my thoughts.

"You did your best," he grunted. "For the circumstances."

My gaze turned into a glare, pulling my knees closer to my chest. "What do you mean I can't fight?" I asked, dully.

"You can't," he replied. "Not well, anyhow. It's a miracle you've lived this long with your supposed lengthy list of conquests and crusades."

"Well, persistence has been known to be one of my finer qualities," I admitted.

Aragorn snorted. "That's one way to phrase it."

"It's the only way," I said. "Now, what about Frodo? Do you know where he is?"

"He's in the next wing over," Aragorn replied. "Though, again, he is safe."

"Yeah," I grunted as I hauled myself up to my feet. "But his enemies now aren't."

Without waiting for a response, I left, making my way towards wherever this 'next wing over' was.

_**.M.I.W.**_

Turns out it took me an hour and a half to find the 'next wing over.' Well, who were we kidding? My sense of direction wasn't at all up to par, and Lord Elrond's castle is pretty freaking distracting when it's practically glowing white in moonlight. Really, the castle grounds are prettier than I really ever gave them credit for, so I was kind of basking in the moment.

But, still, I made it to Frodo's room.

He was situated in a smaller clinic room near a corner of the wing. A huge portion of the wall had been taken out for the sake of a large, gaping archway separated by columns. Long, silk curtains were pulled to the sides, letting in fresh night air.

Yeah, because that seemed totally safe. Totally.

The rest of the room was simple. A book case and door to a bathroom stood off to the left, and a bed taking up the center of the wall off to the right. Frodo lay in the massive bed, swaddled in silk blankets. He looked way better than he did at that watchtower, though his skin still had a thin sheen of sweat and seemed a few shades still too pale.

I crept inside before I could let my own guilt freeze me to my spot. I closed the door behind me, and took a seat next to the bed on a small stool. I propped it near the wall and leaned back against it, kicking my feet out in front of me. I adjusted my weapon's belt, glancing at Frodo to check his breathing: even and soft. Normal.

I settled into my new position, leaning against a stone wall, sitting on a hard stool, and debating whether or not to prop my feet up on the bed.

I decided to just go with it, watching my combat boots create a stark contrast between the crisp white sheets and my black, mangy leather. The image looked kind of hilarious, or maybe that was just sleep deprivation.

Well, seeing Frodo safe and sound made my thoughts move a little slower, and my eyes a little heavier. Maybe resting them wouldn't be such a crime.

_**.M.I.W.**_

The smell of tobacco and some mixture of herbs I didn't know the origins of woke me up. The smell was thick and strong. I blinked and breathed in, only to be assaulted with bitter smoke. My eyes watered, and the world around me for a second seemed hazy.

_Puff._

I jerked up at the sound of smoke being blown, then the crackle of something burning. I pulled out Metatron, on my feet in the next instant.

"What the fuck –" I said as dizziness nearly made me pitch to the side. "This weed is way over my pay grade."

A dry good-humored chuckle drifted across the room, and I focused on the sound, pointing my sword towards it.

Through the cloudy room sat a man on an old rocking chair I didn't notice across the room. He dressed in gray robes, and had a long gray scraggly beard. That was the most of what I could see though, since the top of his face was covered by a huge pointed hat. A tall walking staff leaned against one of the pillars leading out of the archway. He smoked from the small (but potent) pipe.

"Indeed," he said. His voice betrayed his age: old and cragged, but clear. "How have you fared, Miss Verdantia?"

I pulled Sandalphon out. "How do you know my name?" I demanded.

I faced an old, weathered face as he looked up at me. Two bright blue eyes twinkled up at me, wise yet mischievous. But he also looked like I just blew the wind out of his sails, which forced a wave of guilt to claw through my chest. I lowered my swords.

The man puffed on his pipe. "I am Gandalf the Gray," he answered instead. "Aragorn has told me much of you. I apologize – with the way he describes you – it seems as though I know you already."

I choked on a laugh/gasp of horror. Gandalf? Gandalf the Gray? Did I seriously just pull my swords on Gandalf the motherfucking _Gray_?

He cracked a knowing smile at my gawking. "Kindred spirits, I suppose," he went on.

"S – Sorry," I choked out, quickly (and awkwardly) sheathing my swords. "You caught me off guard. You must know what happened at the watchtower, so it just –"

"It wasn't your fault, Miss Verdantia –"

"Madi." I corrected him, distracted when I heard sheets rustling.

"Madi," Gandalf said. "It was not your fault Frodo was stabbed with the blade. Some things must happen as they do, regardless if you think you have the power to change them."

More rustling interrupted my train of thought, and I turned around to look at Frodo. He started to wake up. I backed away, then looked to Gandalf who gave me a reassuring nod.

"G – Gandalf," Frodo croaked, pulling himself up to a sitting position. He looked at the both of us with bleary eyes. "Madi –?"

I smiled. "How's it going?" I asked. "Since you're in capable hands here, I think I'm going to duck out. Sam might know what to do about a half-decent breakfast. Want anything?"

The Hobbit turned a little green at the thought, but before he could reply, I waved him off.

"Right, Wraith stabs, my bad," I said as I started to duck out the door. "I'll see you later, Frodo."

I didn't even dare look at Gandalf as I shut the door behind me, and decided maybe Sam, Pippin, and Merry's conjoined suite would be a good place to start the day.

Turns out with the smell of bacon, tomatoes, and toast wafting out of their closed door, it was a smart choice after all.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Gosh, that took forever, didn't it? Well, it was a filler, but a much needed one. Next chapter will be more exciting, I promise.**


	7. Memories Not Quite Remembered

**So, I'm really sorry for the last chapter. It was awkward, and I was really out of sorts when writing it.**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**trollalalala:**** Yes! There are many others haha. You don't have to read them, but it may make more sense if you do. Thanks for commenting!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Ghosts that We Knew**_** ~ Mumford and Sons**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**7. Memories Not Quite Remembered**

Now, I was sincerely under the impression that Rivendell was a perpetual paradise – where everyone moves at a slow, serene pace because nothing bad ever happens.

Well, I can tell you for sure, it's a perpetual paradise when these people aren't expecting company.

Seriously, it's like my house when my mom is expecting company over at our house. Trust me when I say shit gets hectic. Everything has to be immaculate and perfect or else it'll be total annihilation. For me.

So, yeah. Times that by about a thousand and you'll get Rivendell when they're expecting people from the Woodland realm and the mines where Dwarves lived.

How do Elves even manage running around like chickens with their heads cut off while still being so freaking hot? I think I found out the real meaning of 'illegally attractive.' And it isn't me. Or Jace Wayland. Or Dylan O'Brien. But, most surprisingly, it isn't me.

It's the Elves of Rivendell.

They had frighteningly intense faces as they darted about the castle grounds, collecting robes for Lord Elrond (who I've yet to meet) and setting up the meeting place where the Fellowship would be forged. It was like they knew how important today was.

Maybe my mom has a point in always wanting to keep the house insanely immaculate.

But I doubt it, since she isn't the head of the House of Elrond.

I digress.

Surrounded by the flurry of action performed by insanely 'too beautiful' people, I felt a little out of place as I wandered the castle grounds.

Elves had all but busted into Sam, Merry, and Pippin's large suite just after we finished breakfast (let's not talk about how I almost ripped apart two handmaids), holding fresh clothes for the day. I left so they could change, deciding they were in capable hands.

I managed to find my way back to my own room, or at least I thought.

As I opened the heavy oak door, I already found someone else inside.

A woman drifted by the bed. She was tall, and wore a simple, light purple gown that seemed to flow over her body like water. She had long, dark brunette hair plaited back into a braid, giving way to her angular, pale face. Pale blue eyes found mine, and widened in shock, plump rosy lips forming an 'o.'

"Oh, shit," I sighed, half pulling the door shut and half pulling out one of my seraph blades. "I'm sorry, I thought –"

"No, Miss Verdantia, you have the right room," the woman at my bed said. Her surprise melted into genuine kindness, and she gestured towards my bed. "I apologize for the intrusion, you weren't in –"

"Don't," I answered. "You just surprised me."

Her delicate eyebrows rose a fraction, but relaxed into a smile. "Well, from a few nights ago, I should have assumed. You seemed shaken."

I recognized her immediately. "Arwen, right? Sorry I didn't realize it sooner, you're right, I was kind of rattled. Frodo shouldn't have been hurt."

She shrugged offhandedly. "Some things happen that we can't control."

Yeah, everyone kept saying that, but I _did_ have control over the situation. At least, I should have. I knew what was going to happen ahead of time, yet I couldn't stop it. The whole situation could be described as an epic fail, really.

"Yeah, well…"

"Anyhow, I've left a dress out for you to wear today, if you'd like," Arwen continued, smiling a little hopefully.

I looked down at the bed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah… thanks."

_**.M.I.W.**_

The dress was dark blue and kind of velvety feeling (yes, _velvety_ is an actual word I didn't make up this time). It clung a little too tightly to me, trying to show off curves I didn't really want in the first place.

I thought I'd been done with these dumb things after Howl's Moving Castle. I should have realized that wouldn't be the case as soon as I dropped into this world. However, being me, I don't think things through, so I found myself stuck in another corset.

I twirled around in front of the mirror stationed near my bed again, the fabric of the dress swirling out. It swooshed around my legs, making me appear much more graceful and feminine than I really was. But whenever the dress lifted up around my feet, I could see my black, scuffed combat boots. Then everything became all right.

I pulled my hair into a messy bun, which exposed the low neckline showing off my collarbones and too-pale chest.

I really think my next priority should be getting a tan.

I looked at my swords laying on my bed, my clothes folded next to them, and frowned. I guessed they were the symbol of what was different in my life. I used to be a writer, a dancer, a wannabe rapper (totally loser move on that one, never want to deal with Madi's version of a "scene phase" ever again). Now I was… Rogue.

And that was it.

I walked up to the weapons, resting my hand on the leather of the scabbards.

"You look lovely," Arwen said as she drifted into the room. I looked up at her. "Much different from other warrior maidens I've seen."

"Yeah?" I smirked.

Arwen glanced at my seraphs. "Yes. I've never seen swords like yours before. They shine like stars. Many say you're a witch. Are you?"

"Um…" I shrugged. "Sort of, kind of, not really."

"Yes, I supposed," she said. "When I asked, Aragorn said you were merely a mercenary."

"If I really have to have a label, then fine. I guess it sounds kind of badass, right?"

Her face twisted into confusion. "Bad… ass?"

"It's a… saying where I come from," I explained quickly. "Like, it's a way to describe a really strong, tough warrior."

"I see…"

"They're here!" Someone shouted outside. "They've come!"

I frowned, turning towards the door. "Who's here?"

"Possibly other Elves – our kin – from Mirkwood. Or Dwarves. Or the Men of Gondor."

"For the meeting about the Ring, right?"

Arwen's eyebrows rose. "Yes, but you shouldn't know –"

I snorted. "Yeah, okay. So these three groups of people show up at the same time for a vacation? It's kind of obvious there's a more serious reason."

"Do you plan on going?"

"Who would stop me?"

The Elf smiled. "I wouldn't know who would dare."

_**.M.I.W.**_

I hung around Arwen for an hour afterwards, watching her do princess things, until she got whisked away for what I could assume was a late morning tryst with Aragorn. I decided I didn't want any details, and wandered around the castle, trying to find Merry or Pippin.

The pace the Elves had set now moved slower. Arwen said it was because most of the preparations for today were already set, which meant less awkward encounters with Elves as they gave me and my swords weird looks. A person can only take so much.

I tightened my weapons belt around my waist so it won't slip off. I ducked around an ivy covered column, taking in my surroundings as my swords bumped against my legs.

I made my way towards a large balcony, finding Frodo walking outside. He stared at towering waterfalls that plummeted into a deep river flowing far below us. He looked brand new, in pale cream clothes that seemed to match the color of Elrond's castle.

"Hey," I greeted as I stepped out with him.

The small Hobbit turned around, bright blue eyes finding mine, and a smile stretching across his face. "I wondered when I would see you. You seemed rather skittish this morning."

"Yeah, sorry," I said. "I thought you'd want to talk to Gandalf alone."

"You're supposed to be my guard," he said. "Though, letting me be attacked the other night does not put much of my faith in you."

"Hey, you were the one who turned invisible," I snapped. "I can't protect things I can't see."

His eyes widened, one of his hands slowly reaching for his neck.

"Don't take it out," I ordered. "I know it's there."

Because, seriously? There was no way I was going to be able to see that Ring again without losing my shit or something.

He dropped his hand, holding it behind his back like he'd been burnt, eyes wide and guilty.

I shook my head and stepped past him, looking out over the railing of the balcony. I could see Elves moving around below, stewards unpacking horse's saddles and showing people I didn't recognize to areas of the castle. I would explore that later on tonight.

"I am sorry I couldn't protect you," I said. "I should have done more."

Frodo slowly padded up next to me, his bare feet barely making a sound on the stone ground of the castle. "You did what you could," he replied. "And I'm not dead yet, so I suppose that's better than nothing, isn't it?"

I glanced down at him. His messy dark hair brushed around his face in a warm breeze. He could have been a child, if it weren't for the already ancient look on his face. Did it really start this fast?

"Gandalf told me I should trust you," he said. "You wouldn't let me down."

"Well, I'll try," I smiled. "But when I try, I put in one hundred percent into it."

A corner of his mouth quirked up. "I trust you to do so."

"Frodo!" A bright voice broke the tense atmosphere.

I looked over just as Pippin tackled Frodo into a fierce hug, bright smiles on both of their faces. I grinned as Merry and Sam followed at a slower (but still pretty quick) pace. Merry managed to pry Pippin off of Frodo so he could have a turn for a hug as well, while Sam stood beside me, like a child confused by the rambunctious Hobbits in front of him.

The two ginger Hobbits then began to grill Frodo, questions ranging from, "What does your room look like?" to, "How did it feel getting stabbed?" They jabbered on and on while Frodo looked at me helplessly, trying to answer any question that he could before his answer became bowled over by another inquiry.

"Well, then. It seems as though you've finally found your own adventure," an old, wry voice noted from the other end of the balcony.

We all looked up at an old man hobbling out from one of the hallways and onto the balcony. He balanced precariously on a worn staff, and he was incredibly short – a little smaller than the Hobbits. He looked ancient, his frizzy white hair curled off his head. But he still seemed bright and cheerful.

"Bilbo," Frodo said, his voice warm and excited.

Before anyone could say anything more, the young Hobbit detangled himself out of his friends' arms, and ran straight for the man's. Bilbo's.

Bilbo Baggins.

My eyes widened as the old man's gaze flitted from Pippin, Merry, Sam, and finally me. He suddenly looked just as surprised as I did.

"By my stars," he gasped. "It's you…"

I arched an eyebrow in response, and found myself taking a small step back. "Um… I guess it would be weird how if it wasn't."

Something seemed to snap in him in the next moment, because he shook his head and chuckled. "Sorry, it's just that you look like a very dear friend of mine… from a long time ago," he explained. "Do humor an old man, won't you?"

A smiled and shrugged. "Sure, yeah. Who was she?"

"A warrior," he explained. "A very good one –"

His explanation was lost in a fit of heavy coughing. Frodo quickly led him away, sending us an apologetic look. I shrugged in response.

"And then there were four…" I mused, looking at the Hobbits standing around me.

Our awkward silence was short lived, though, when the sharp bray of a horse cut through the air, and seemed to echo around Rivendell.

We all took to the railing of the balcony. I leaned over the top of it, while Pippin stood next to me and looked through the bars to my right, Merry jumped to sit on it at my left, and Sam stood further off, watching with concern and interest.

A startled, chestnut tried to struggle out of the hold of one of the Elven stewards. I frowned as the steward tried to control the animal, shouldn't Elves be good with horses?

Finally, a man – he had to be human, with his crazy broad shoulders and shorter, strawberry blonde hair – shoved the Elf aside, grabbing the reigns of the horse and forcing it to calm down. The man's armor glinted in the afternoon sunlight, and I cocked my head to the side. Who was this –?

"People have been coming in all day," Pippin murmured. "What's going on?"

"Lord Elrond's hosting a meeting," I answered. "He needs a lot of people – a lot of different views – to make an important decision."

"What sort of decision?" Merry asked.

"It's about the Ring Frodo brought here," I said. "They're trying to figure out what to do with it."

"Hopefully take it away from him," Sam piped up. "Destroy it. That thing ain't nothin' but bad luck. I can tell."

He really didn't know how right he would be.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Okay, next chapter is going to be the meeting of the council! And it'll be written better! Are you excited? You should be!**


	8. Bows, Axes, Shields, Swords, and Seraphs

**So sorry this took such a long time. I loved writing this chapter, though. Definite favorite. **

**ShoutOuts ~**

**trollalalala:**** Hey, you still read, which is pretty awesome. I love your guess, you're close, actually.**

**Random Person 94:**** Um… enough to make some really awkward Fellowship action, I'm sure haha. Was this update fast enough?**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**I Dare You**_** ~ Shinedown (acoustic version)**

_**I'm Ready, I Am**_** ~ The Format**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**8. Bows, Axes, Shields, Swords, and Seraphs**

Hobbits, I've learned, are a lot like rabbits. They're social, energetic, and enjoy any type of mischief they can get themselves into. It's what they do, and it might be why I enjoy being around them so much.

By the time evening rolled on, the grounds of Elrond's castle had be thoroughly explored and understood, with the exception of the newcomers' wings. Sam's panic was enough to make us turn back for the night. So, no, there weren't any late night excursions to meet the other members of the Fellowship, unfortunately.

I stayed in the Hobbit's suite that night, after checking with one of the elven stewards that Frodo was safe. We curled around a small fire Sam made out on the balcony and slept peacefully. Well, the Hobbits slept. I stayed up, changed back in my newly cleaned gear with my swords drawn across my lap. I guarded them through the dark, my thoughts drifting towards what would happen tomorrow.

The morning sun rays shot over the top of the rocks surrounding Rivendell. I blinked past bleariness as my eyes fought to close, and watched as Pippin shifted in his sleep. He started to wake up, gazing into the large suite.

"Good morning," he said quietly, not taking his eyes off of the room.

"Morning," I answered. "You all right?"

"I just… is this the end?" He murmured. "Is this all we're going to do? Aragron said we were going home today but…"

"But…?"

"I feel like I'm not being told something. Why are we here? What meeting is Frodo going to? Are you going? I don't like these secrets."

"Then go to the meeting," I replied.

"But it's not allowed," he sighed in exasperation.

I arched an eyebrow, a smile growing on my face that he started to mirror. "And that's supposed to stop a Took?"

_**.M.I.W.**_

To be honest, I actually didn't know if I could go to the meeting myself. Don't get me wrong, I was still planning on travelling with the Fellowship. I mean, Balrog? Sounds like a demon just waiting for a taste of seraph blade. I could reap the bragging rights off of that for ages.

So I trailed around the castle (was it even a castle?) grounds, jumping on top of the railings and walking across them, just to test if I still had my balance from the angelic runes I'd been marked with back in the _Mortal Instrument_ series.

I did.

I didn't know why I still had the weird agility, speed, and balance. I didn't know why I still had all of my superhuman senses, and I doubted I would get an answer any time soon. So I'd just roll with it. It's one of my other special skills.

"Lady Verdantia! Lady Verdantia!"

I grabbed the column in front of me and spun around it, landing neatly on the railing on the other side. I looked around, frowning when I saw a steward running towards me. He was young looking, with fair skin and long brown hair. Some of the strands were in braids, and tossed about as he ran like ornaments shake on a Christmas tree if it's moved.

"Uh…" I hung from the column as I stared down at the steward. "Can I help you?"

He stopped in front of me, analyzed my precarious position, and nodded respectfully. "Lady Verdantia, you've been invited to join the council meeting. I've been asked to escort you."

"Invited?" I frowned. "By whom?"

His dark blue eyes widened in surprise. "By Lord Elrond, my lady. He is insistent that he meet you."

Lord Elrond? Why would he want to –?

"Lady Verdantia," the steward insisted. "The council is waiting."

Why was the council waiting for me?

I slipped off of the railing, landing neatly at the elf's side. "Um… okay."

_**.M.I.W.**_

The steward hustled down stairs and through narrow hallways, not even really bothering to see if I kept up. I had to practically jog to do so, holding my swords steadily against me as I trumped down stairs and made tight corners.

Finally, we faced a small courtyard. Chairs were stationed around the area, and a pedestal sat in the middle. All of the chairs were filled, save for one, next to a small Hobbit with dark hair and light eyes.

Frodo.

On his other side, Gandalf sat, smoking a pipe and muttering to one of the other guests.

"My liege," the steward said, stepping into the area in front of me. I hopped after him, finding myself bristling under the eyes that fell on me. "I present Lady Verdantia."

He quickly swooped (it's the only way to describe it) out of the courtyard, attending to some other business, leaving me alone and stared at. I gripped the hilts of my swords, and scanned the group seated before me.

They were all men. One section of the men were short, stocky and hairy. A couple of them were smoking pipes. Dwarves, they had to be. Another section near them were long, thin, unearthly beautiful, and blond. Elves. The last section held stocky, tall, robust men all in armor and looking pretty fierce. The final section was ragtag: Gandalf, Frodo, Aragorn, and that empty chair. Frodo looked relieved to see me, and I smiled weakly in return.

"Madison Verdantia," a rich, dark voice rang out, making me stiffen. I turned to the left towards it.

He was an older looking elf. Still incredibly attractive, with dark brown hair and light eyes. The fronts of his hair seemed to be pulled back, and a silver crown made of what looked like vines sat on his head. He wore long purple robes, and sat in a throne-like chair. He smiled kindly at me, and gestured to the empty seat.

"I've heard much about you," he went on. "A mercenary with enough courage to stand up to the Nazgul. If that kind of bravery is not allowed a seat at this council, then what is? Please, take a seat."

I gave a quick nod and started walking to the empty chair, hoping the rest of this council or whatever would _stop staring_. It was worse than showing up late to class in high school.

"Not much of a champion," a deep voice muttered, so low I wouldn't have caught it if I had normal hearing. "Looks more like a handmaid, if you ask me."

Another _harrumphed_ in agreement.

I froze halfway to my seat, squaring my shoulders back.

I wheeled around towards the voices, which belonged to the dwarven section. It had to. "Would you like a demonstration then?" I demanded. "I'll show you who should be a handmaid."

This sparked an interest among the goers of the meeting. The elves looked surprised, the men confused, and the dwarves seemed shaken.

I tapped my temple. "Superhuman senses," I explained. "Along with heightened strength, agility, and endurance. Tell me I'm not a champion – I dare you."

"A child should show respect when speaking to their elders," the same dwarf who called me a handmaid growled. I found the speaker to have long, thick red hair and a braided beard to match. He glared at me with dark, beady eyes.

"And elders should know things aren't what they seem," I retorted.

The stocky man stood with a cocky laugh that melted into a guttural growl. "Fighting words, lass," he said, reaching for an axe propped up against his chair. "Perhaps we should have that demonstration now."

I grabbed Metatron's hilt. "Oh yeah, let's."

Dwarves cheered at the chance for bloodshed. The elves looked on, trying to hide their interest in vain. The men of the group were interested; a large strawberry blond one started snickering at me. I glared at him.

"Madison, stand down," Aragorn barked, setting me off guard. I turned to glare at him, but he was already nodding to the empty chair next to Frodo.

I shook my head and slumped into the chair, folding my arms across my chest. I shot a dark look at the dwarf as he turned to sit down, seeing an unsatisfied fire still burning in his gaze as we shared the same, long look.

"Strangers from distant lands… friends of old," Elrond began. "You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite… or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate."

The Head Elf then turned his attention on Frodo. "Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

Frodo's gaze glazed over in anxiety. I frowned as he slowly rose from his chair. He took steady, deliberate steps towards the stone plinth in the center of the room, and reached into his coat pocket. When he pulled his hand out again, I could see the amber gold circle in his hand. It was heavy, warm looking, and the same dark, heady call started to pull at the back of my mind.

Shit.

Slowly, the Hobbit placed the ring in the center of that plinth, for everyone to see, and retreated back to his chair. As he sat down, he let out a long breath. The council then broke out in a series of murmurs.

"So it is true," the man with strawberry blond hair said.

A young-looking blond elf looked surprised by the sight of it, and I swore I could see a tip of his ear twitch in anxiety. "The Ring of Power," he whispered.

The dwarf who'd been excited at the chance to show me a lesson looked incredibly grim, and our squabble seemed long forgotten. "The doom of man."

The strawberry blond haired (what a mouthful, does this guy have a name yet?) man gave a dark chuckle, plucking at the corners of my mind. I quickly focused on him, reaching for the hilt of one of my seraphs.

"It is a gift…" he said, smiling at the ring on the plinth. "A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use this ring?"

A lot of the council shut up at that. I tensed.

The strawberry blond guy looked around and, upon seeing our confused looks, quickly backtracked, "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, held the forces of Mordor at bay… by the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy… let us use it against him!"

Wait, his father was the Steward of Gondor? Oh my God, Boromir! It's Boromir! I gripped Metatron's hilt as excitement hit me, but I squelched it under logic. _Idiot, did you hear what this guy just suggested?_

"Umm, can I get a hell no –" I started off.

"You cannot wield it," Aragorn interrupted me. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

The strawberry blond – Boromir – gave him a cold, calculating look, narrowing his eyes. "And what would a Ranger know of this matter?"

When Aragorn didn't say anything, the Boromir scoffed –

"This is no mere Ranger," a young voice piped up. Surprised it wasn't me who said it, I turned to see an elf standing from his seat. His bright blue eyes were wide and wild, and angry. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Frodo turned to look at Aragorn in surprise, but before he could say anything, the Boromir already wheeled on Aragorn.

"Aragorn?" the Boromir said, as if testing the name. "This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the elf added, a little smugly.

I turned to look at Aragorn myself, hoping my expression gave way to how much I really wanted to get in on this fight. But Aragorn gave me a sharp look, then waved the elf off. "_Havo dad, Legolas_."

Legolas?

I turned to look at the elf, my eyes widening, as he sat down. Legolas! How does one even say, 'dude, the way you kill Orcs is inspiring' without looking like a tool? My God, this was the guy! The. _Guy_! My first-ever fictional idol – my first-ever fictional crush. The dude I studied when I self-taught myself how to use a sword. Granted, he used his bow and arrow a lot, but when he whipped out those long knives, I thought I would break the DVD with the amount of times I hit rewind just to _try_ and imitate his moves.

His eyes met mine for a brief moment, and looked away. I tried to get myself back in gear. I wasn't some stupid first grader anymore, crushing on the blond crusader.

Boromir relaxed back in his seat, shaking his head. "Gondor needs no king," he muttered.

_That_ pulled me right back on track.

"Oh, no, trust me," I retorted, "it does. I've seen your kingdom, and it's total shit under your father's –"

"_Verdantia_!" Aragorn hissed. I glared at him.

"You know, I'm beginning to see less and less of a reason as to why you're here, Miss Verdantia," Boromir said pompously. "I've entertained your being here, under the impression you were a warrior, but it only seems now you are petty –"

"If you question her presence, you are questioning my judgment, Sir Boromir," Lord Elrond intervened. "And that is something I will not entertain. Miss Verdantia, if you cannot control yourself, then leave."

I shut up at that, glaring daggers at my boots. Way to go, Madi, get invited to a secret meeting and blow it because you're being a total idiot.

"That girl is going to end the day with several duels if she can help it," an elf murmured dryly. I folded my arms across my chest, pretending I couldn't hear them.

"Absolutely barbaric," another agreed.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf spoke up, bringing the discussion back on track. "We cannot use it."

"The Ring must be destroyed," Elrond said in agreement.

The dark hum coming from the ring spiked in my head, throbbing through my skull. The dwarf who crossed me first abruptly stood up, wielding his axe.

"Well then?" He demanded. "What are we waiting for?"

He rushed towards the stone plinth in the center of the room at a speed I didn't measure in time. He swung his axe back, then chopped forward, flying straight towards the ring –

_CRASH!_

I flinched at the abruptness of the noise, seeing Frodo cram himself into the back of his chair, pressing a hand against his forehead. I quickly rested a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Frodo?" I asked.

He didn't even seem to hear me. He only stared at the stone plinth in horror, and I followed his gaze.

The axe's blade shattered around the stone plinth, nothing left but a long wooden rod once holding it. The dwarf had flown back at the kick of it, and was being helped up by his consort. The ring didn't even look dented.

The council sat in stunned silence, some staring at the stone plinth, others staring at the dwarf until he stood straight again.

"The ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," Elrond said, voice grave. "The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there it can be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

Wait, Gimli, son of Gloin? _Gimli_? I just basically threatened my second-favorite character to a duel? I stared after the dwarf in horror, regret hitting me hard and fast.

This was spinning out of control.

The council still sat in silence, seeming to take on the burden they'd been placed with. I suddenly wondered why they were all chosen – specifically – why did they get picked to talk about this ordeal?

Boromir shifted in his seat, raising a careful hand. His eyes were intense. "One does not simply walk into Mordor –"

I couldn't even laugh at the fact Boromir said such a well-known line. I felt so out of step. How could I ruin it all so fast? Gimli hated me, Aragorn probably thought I was the most irritating person in the universe, Gandalf must think we're not even close to kindred spirits, Boromir probably wants to stab me with his sword, and Legolas probably thinks I'm the Middle-Earth equivalent to a trashy bimbo.

"Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust – the very air you _breathe_ is a poisonous fume! Not with ten _thousand_ men could you do this. It is folly."

Legolas shot up out of his seat again, the other elves around him looking a little startled by his outburst. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" He demanded. "The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?" Gimli demanded.

"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir snapped, mainly looking at Aragorn. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

I gripped the sides of my chair to keep from saying anything, grinding hard on my teeth until my whole jaw started to hurt. I only just realized how weird it was I just kept letting this barbed comments fly out of me. It was like not only did my mental filter disappear, but also like I was being _encouraged_ to say all of this crap.

Meanwhile, Gimli shot up to his feet. "I will be _dead_ before I see the Ring in the hands of an _Elf_!"

Of course, hearing something so blatantly racist made my inner social justice warrior shoot up. And, of course, it had to be a brilliant time to say something.

"Oh my God!" I groaned, slumping back into my chair. "That's seriously you're only concern? Shut the fuck up."

"Now I've had as much as I can take with you!" Gimli growled, jabbing a finger in my direction. I raised an eyebrow. "You certainly shouldn't be here."

I do promise I wanted to curl up in a hole and die when he said that. I raked a hand through my hair and stared down at my shoes, trying to get over the harsh insult and trying to pretend I didn't have a brilliant comeback just up my sleeve.

The rest of the room had erupted into argument. People leapt up from their chairs, and I heard someone mention my name. I wheeled around to face them, finding Gandalf giving terse warning to some elves gesturing my way.

"This is ludicrous!" An elf I didn't recognize exclaim. "How can she come on this journey? She's only a _child_!"

By that point it was game over. Again. I had a short fuse – it wasn't that big of a secret – and if someone's going to call me a child, they'd better have logic to back them up.

A dark energy shot up my spine, making me stand up. I realized just too late as I walked over to Gandalf that maybe this was something happening beyond my control.

"I will take it…"

I froze, my whole body jamming ramrod straight.

"I will take it."

The elves heard it too.

"I will take the ring to Mordor!"

Everyone quieted down at that, turning to look at Frodo Baggins. He had already moved next to the Ring of Power on the plinth, gazing down at it. Then, he looked up, and seemed to start folding in on himself under the attention. He somehow focused on me.

"Though…" he murmured, "I do not know the way."

Gandalf was the first to move. He shuffled towards Frodo, a sad smile on his face. I backed up towards my chair, hoping I didn't look like I was actually on my way to fight with the elves like I had been earlier.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf promised.

Before I could step forward, Aragorn already stood in front of Frodo, kneeling before him. "If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword."

"And you have my bow!" Legolas called out, stepping towards the Hobbit.

Gimli bridled at that, and made his way towards Frodo. "And my axe," he growled, giving me a haughty look as he did.

Boromir chuckled as he sat down in his chair. "You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

"So will I," I agreed. Frodo grinned at me, bringing a joyous light to his eyes, and I had to smile back. "You have my seraphs."

I slowly stepped towards the group of fighters already surrounding Frodo, receiving measured looks from most in the Fellowship. Gandalf smiled warmly at me, seeming smug that I was joining as well. I nodded back.

"Hey!" A voice shouted out, gruff and angry.

Scrabbling noises followed it soon after, and I arched an eyebrow just as Samwise stumbled out from behind the undergrowth. "Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me," he said stubbornly as he stood at Frodo's side.

Elrond chuckled. "No, indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

"Oi!" Another voice piped up, making me smile. More rustling from undergrowth occurred, and Pippin and Merry ran into the center of the council, joining my sides. "We're coming too!" Pippin cried.

"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," Merry added.

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission… quest… thing…" Pippin floundered, his brows furrowing as he seemed to come up with the right thing to say.

Merry rolled his eyes. "Well, that rules you out, Pip."

Elrond surveyed our little group, a thoughtful look on his face. We probably looked pretty weird. I mean, you've got two bulky, arrogant looking dudes, Boromir and Aragorn. Then the ever pristine, ever attractive looking Legolas. Then the short, stocky, gruff looking Gimli. Gandalf stood in his tattered gray robes and leaned heavily on his staff. Of course the Hobbits all jittered with excitement, looking more like kids than future defenders of Middle Earth. I didn't even want to know what I looked like.

"Ten companions… so be it," Lord Elrond nodded. "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great!" Pippin grinned, scheming. "Where are we going?"

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Just so we know, Madi looked kickass in the group. Pissed off and pensive, just the way we like her.**

**All right! Now we're making some headway! Onto the action!**


	9. Leather and Grind

**Wrote this while listening to big band swing music. I think I'm adopting a phase.**

**Shout Outs ~**

**trollalalala:**** Thanks! I'm excited too!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Carrie**_** ~ Speak**

_**Something New**_** ~ The Black Ghosts**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**9. Leather and Grind**

After the announcement of the Fellowship, the council then decided three days of preparation were needed before the journey would be set. That meant more running around for elven stewards and Hobbits and other worrying members of the Fellowship, while I wandered the castle grounds.

I came across a courtyard. It was open and large, bigger than ones I'd come across with the Hobbits. It was covered in grass, parts of it scrubbed out by wear and tear over the years. Trees grew around it as a border, and I noticed targets stationed near the back of it, though they were covered with vines and weeds.

A training ground.

A training ground eerily deserted. I could hardly hear anything except for the occasional murmur of elves wandering the grounds, finding supplies for the Fellowship's journey.

It must have been why Aragorn had chosen the space to train in.

He wore a sleeveless tunic and breeches, boots scuffing the ground as he moved around with his sword. It was a powerhouse beast, that sword. The metal glinted in the bright sunlight as Aragorn swiped down on a much smaller sword – a long knife – that belonged to his sparring partner.

He was young, looking only a little older than me, with a lean body. He dressed in earth tones, mainly green and silver. The fronts of his long blonde hair were pulled back in braids and plated behind his head. The hairstyle exposed his pointed ears, and sharp blue eyes.

Legolas.

I crept further into the training ground, just hiding behind the trees growing around its perimeter, watching the two men fighting in front of me. They were two forces to be reckoned with, like thunder and lightning. Aragorn was strong, forceful, and oppressive. Legolas was sharp, quick and his attacks were abrupt. They both moved with definite power. There was no grace or form in their movements – it was all brutal strength. It got the job done.

It was so, so very different from what I knew and how I was taught. Jace Lightwood taught me cockiness and grace and speed, fluid attacks that melded with what I knew in break dancing. It wasn't as seriousness, but it got the job done too, didn't it?

Aragorn reeled back from an attack, and Legolas shot after him, stabbing forward with his much smaller long knife, seeming to go straight for a gut-stabbing.

Without even thinking, I shifted forward, wanting to get a better look. This guy was beyond impressive with a bow, but with his knife? I mean, he was incredible, everything I wanted to be as a fighter: cool, calm, finite, and vicious. I guess I got a little too excited, and forgot the meaning of stealth as I stepped on a broken, dried up branch and cracked it.

The elf stopped short at the noise, and bridled in his attack. He wheeled on my exact location, and focused right on me.

"It seems we have an audience," he noted dryly.

I felt blood rush through my ears at the intense stare, and I really hoped I wasn't blushing. I crept out of the tree line. "Yeah," I said, gabbing a corner of my jacket. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't," Aragorn replied congenially, gesturing me to walk further onto the training grounds.

He flipped his sword in the same way I'd flip my seraphs, except he was cooler, I was sure. His muscles flexed just under his skin currently covered in a light sheen of sweat, and he had a serene look on his face like he found home behind a blade. I had never seen anything more badass.

Legolas looked like he'd hardly broken a sweat, and he looked down at me like he didn't quite know how to deal with me. I looked down at the long knife he wielded, seeing its ivory handle and gold, spindly carvings. It was detailed and intricate, looking almost like a piece of art than a weapon.

"Would you like to learn?" Aragorn asked, breaking my concentration. I turned to face him.

"What?"

He took a few steps back, flipping his sword again. "Would you like to learn how to fight?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I know how to fight," I replied.

"Then would you like to test it?" He rejoined. "You don't mind, do you, Legolas?"

I glanced over at the elf, who already started walking away. "_Ta naa seasamin_," he answered. "I am interested in seeing her skill."

My body felt as tense as a livewire at the statement. Legolas wanted to see how skilled I was. He wanted to see me fight. I really hoped I wouldn't look like a moron.

"All right," I replied.

I pulled off my seraph blades, letting them drop on the ground next to me. I then shucked off my jacket, and tossed it behind me. I unsheathed my seraph blades, and kicked their scabbards out of the way.

I flipped the blades expertly (or at least I hoped it was expert). They started to glow under the movements, and I saw the ranger look at them warily.

I darted forward, holding my blades forward, but Aragorn already started swinging down. I threw my seraphs up in a defensive 'x' –

_CLANG!_

Aragorn forced his weight down on me, his sword trapped in between mine. I wasn't strong enough to fend him off, so I dropped and took a small step back. He stumbled forward, but quickly regained his balance and attacked me head-on.

I swatted his sword away with Metatron, realizing too late I wasn't strong enough to take his attacks. When he swung his sword out at me again, I ducked, and tried to land a fake hit on his exposed side. He saw it coming though, shoving his blade back to block, and shoving me away.

I grinned as Aragorn cracked a smile, and he lunged forward.

I blocked the front of his sword with Sandalphon, forcing the blade down, and tried to swing out with Metatron for an attempted slice at the neck. Aragorn was too fast, bringing his sword up and holding its tip at my throat –

I leaned back and dropped, spinning on the tips of my toes, batting his blade to the side with Metatron and shooting forward with Sandalphon. Aragorn sidestepped the hit, and we were now a yard or so apart. I crouched on the ground, my leg extended for balance, and my swords held out.

We stared at each other, catching our breath, for a beat. I smirked.

Aragorn took the attack, and I jumped up and quickly spun past the sword. I tried to mock a slice to his side, but he was too quick, turning at a dime and stopping both swords. It knocked me off balance and I fell backwards, landing on the warm grass beneath me. I was winded, but when I saw him start at me, sword trained for my neck, I threw out my swords in an 'x.'

He simply pushed them aside, and pointed his sword against my neck.

"You aren't very strong," he observed. "Quick, but not strong."

I suddenly felt like I didn't fit in. These dudes were unrelenting, unyielding, like rock. They withstood attacks, and then made critical fatal blows that knocked you off your feet. Fighting in this world would be like fighting mountains. Legolas had been the fastest in the Fellowship, but he was also wickedly and (probably) deceptively strong. I thought I'd done enough fighting and training to fit into this world.

I frowned at the realization. "I'm not exactly built for brute force."

"What have you fought again?" He asked.

"Fast things," I answered, staring at the sword still pointed at me. "The objective was to match their speed, fight them off balance, and make the kill. I'm not strong."

Not the right kind of strong, anyhow. Sure, I had lean muscle throughout my body, a flat stomach that wouldn't cause complaint, but that was just it. I was lean, flat. I didn't have thunder biceps and death metal thighs. I wasn't made to withstand attack. I was made to avoid it. If I wanted to survive in this world, I would have to be even faster than I already was.

I pulled myself to my feet, pushing the sword out of my face. "I'll show you," I said.

I stabbed both of my swords into the soft, dry earth. I then took three or so steps away from him, shaking out the tension in my arms, and jumping in place. Finally settled, my heart racing at what I was sure should put me into cardiac arrest, I faced Aragorn.

"Attack me," I said.

After a short pause, he came at me.

Instead of focusing on where I would place my swords or force my way into my target, I put my attention on Aragorn's weapon. He swung out, readying to chop off my head –

I ducked, pushing myself to the right and out of his line of sight. The move was fast and fluid, unhindered by the clunkiness my swords sometimes brought (even though I loved them to death, they really could get in the way of some streamline movement). I straightened up, finding Aragorn turning around, and swinging his blade too.

I ducked again, but found out he anticipated that. My heart leapt up into my throat when I saw a thin wall of steel barreling straight for me (realizing this is why I had swords), and I lurched back.

He stabbed out, and I stepped to the right, crossing my ankles just as Aragorn swung upwards. I pulled a pencil drop, and stepped back again.

We stared at each other evenly for a few moments, both of us catching our breath.

"Where I come from, if you know how to dodge an attack, you can land one," I explained. "But here it's different. Can you teach me how to fight like you?"

The ranger nodded towards my swords. "Get your weapons."

I ran to my seraphs, pulling them out of the ground, my eyes finding Legolas's when I looked up. He was leaning against a tree, looking on with what seemed like passive interest. I didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Did he think I sucked too?

I tried to ignore it, grabbed my blades, and turned around to face Aragorn again.

"I'll teach you blocks first," he explained. "Blocks where strength doesn't determine your defense."

I nodded, and started to mimic one of Aragorn's stances. Even though I didn't feel like I fit in, I was working on it. That was better than nothing.

_**.M.I.W.**_

It was the morning we were supposed to leave for the "epic adventure of a lifetime" (as Pippin called it). Everyone had been woken early, and the house of Lord Elrond was once again in a flurry of action. We were all supposed to meet up at the front entrance of the castle by midmorning.

I was with the Hobbits as they gathered their belongings in better suited packs for travel. I simply had my swords strapped to my back in their usual 'x' formation, and felt pretty set to go. One of the stewards had told me a bag was being prepared for me, though I had no idea why they couldn't just give it to me now.

The Hobbits were cheerful and talkative through their packing. They traded idle gossip that passed through the Shire, noted things they'd seen while in Rivendell. They didn't know what lay ahead for them, and my chest was clenching when I realized that. I may be able to save them physically, but I couldn't save the innocence they had now.

"This is going to be an epic adventure of a lifetime," Pippin crooned (again). "We'll be like your uncle, Frodo. Traveling by day, sleeping by campfires at night. Madi will tell us the tales her mercenary-ing has given her, perhaps we'll see more Elves –"

"The more you talk about it, the longer it will take for us to leave," Merry sighed, and Frodo chuckled softly.

A knock on the door brought all conversation to a stop, and another elven steward poked his head through the door. He nodded respectfully to everyone in the room, glancing over all of the face. Then he finally stopped on mine.

"Miss Verdantia, you are to accompany me to Lord Elrond's study," the steward explained. "Master Gandalf and Lord Elrond are already waiting for you."

I jumped to my feet, giving a bewildered look back at the Hobbits that I hoped signified, 'what the hell, guys?'

Once again, I followed a steward through similar looking corridors, up stairs and through strange, open rooms. I felt awkward and clunky as I tried not to run into any elves, the one in front of me moving with a speed and grace even my skills couldn't match. All I could do was twist and bend past huge trays carrying food, large jugs of water, and various clothing materials.

We climbed higher and higher, and as we did, there were less elves for me to run into. It seemed like with each level we reached, time slowed down. Elves moved slower, there was less noise, and less organized chaos.

Finally, the only noises to be heard were the footsteps coming from the elf and my clunky boots. I fiddled with the sleeves of my jacket as I followed the steward step for step.

We walked up another set of narrow, winding stairs, and I suddenly found myself standing in a small, circular room. It let in a lot of light from open windows, and bookshelves lined the walls. In the center of the room were three chairs and a table holding a pitcher of wine and three glasses. There was an archway leading out of the tiny room, and voices came from it.

The elf steward already started turning tail, giving me a polite nod, before retreating down the stairs. I glared after him and stood awkwardly by myself.

I smelled the heady smoke before I focused on listening to the murmurs, which were too far away for me to catch anything. All I knew was that they were deep and grave.

I already decided to move forward. I made uncertain, awkward steps through the open archway, following the sounds of the voices.

Gandalf and Lord Elrond stood in the next room near a table. I caught flashes of what looked like a map as they moved.

I slowly made my way into the room, careful not to interrupt the tense discussion as the two went over the map, and I caught snippets of the route we were taking as a Fellowship. I sidled up next to the table on the other side of Gandalf, looking down at the ancient parchment splayed beneath their fingers. The ink scrawled out on the paper created images of cities, forests, valleys, mountains, rivers, open grasslands with names I could hardly pronounce. I recognized Gondor, Osgiliath, Rohan, and Mordor, but the rest was foreign to me.

I wondered how long it would take to explore all of it.

"Miss Verdantia, so good of you to join us," Gandalf said, breaking the conversation. "We were just going over the course of our journey."

"I can see that," I answered, biting back from saying planning ahead would be useless. We were going to have setback after setback, and everything Elrond and Gandalf were discussing now might as well be thrown out the window. "Seems like a pretty straightforward plan."

"It should be a rather straightforward journey," Gandalf answered, smiling, "unless… we should run into trouble."

"I mean, we're only going to Mordor, how difficult is that?"

Both men chuckled at that, and I smiled. At least humor isn't a foreign concept here.

"You summoned me?" I asked.

"Yes, I have something to give you, Miss Verdantia," Elrond answered. He waved a hand at the servant standing in the corner of the room. Seeing the unspoken command, the servant scurried out.

"Wait, what –?"

"You have come poorly prepared," he explained. "This was brought to my attention when my stewards were unpacking Aragorn's horse. No previsions or heavier clothing? These are not things a traveling mercenary would easily forget."

"Well, it wasn't the intent," I explained, frowning. "I just – you don't have to do anything –"

Elrond shook his head. "Honor binds me to it," he said simply.

More panic than not set in. I think if I was in a simpler place in my life – where gifts didn't necessarily have strings attached, I would have accepted it without even thinking twice. But then I got 'gifted' with the ability to travel using portals by a demon, who once expected me to do his underwordly bidding. Then I was gifted with a magic pistol that can kill anything it shoots by another demon, and that ended up with me dying. Suffice to say, gifts now kind of set off warning bells for me.

"What are you even talking about?" I demanded. "You don't know me. I mean, I really appreciate your generosity and allowing me to go to the council, putting your reputation on the line – which, by the way, I promise you won't be sorry – to invite me on this quest, but it's not necessary."

"And I suppose it's necessary to protect a complete stranger against impossible enemies," Gandalf interjected, raising his brows at me.

I shut my mouth at that. Frodo was definitely _not_ a complete stranger. In fact, it felt like I'd known him my entire life. How could he be a stranger? But then I realized there were real-world conventions I had to follow. People here didn't know I spent eleven years of my life watching _Lord of the Rings_, absorbing every line and studying every fight scene. Here, Frodo should be a complete stranger.

"I guess honor binds me to it," I answered, making the corner of Elrond's mouth lift up into a smile. "But that doesn't mean I want a bribe for doing this, I don't need it."

Four elven handmaids drifted into the room then, each carrying some form of black material, and one held long, black boots.

"Consider it a gift, then, Miss Verdantia," Elrond replied. "Don't refuse it. You will need something better suited for travel than your attire now."

I frowned, but found myself nodding. It was true, I would need something with more protection than jeans and combat boots.

"'Tis only a gift, Miss Verdantia," he said as he nodded to the handmaids.

The women ushered me into a nearby room down the hall from the library. This room was huge and grand, very upscale from the rooms the Hobbits and I had been placed in when we first got here.

I was pushed into a huge walk-in closet, with gowns on either side of me, and a large full length mirror in front of me. The maids bustled around me, and I focused once I found one of them starting to touch the belts of my seraph blade scabbards.

I jerked back and swatted her hand away, which surprised her.

"I can dress myself," I said flatly in answer to her shocked expression.

The elves gave me a sour look, but they filed out of the room, leaving the clothes placed on a chair near me. After I was totally sure I couldn't hear their barely-there footsteps, I undressed, and reached for the first black, cloth-like item.

_Breeches_, I realized, holding them out in front of me. The material was soft but incredibly tough, kind of like the material on athletic pants, but much stronger. I slipped those on first, finding they fit kind of like soccer pants. They were fitted and could breathe, and I had no idea how to deal with the strange material. I only knew it was kickass material for traveling… and fighting.

So, I shrugged it off, and reached for the next item. It was a tunic (sleeveless and nearly skin-tight) that fit like your basic Underarmour shirt. It was made of the same soft yet tough material as the pants. The collar was weird as hell, though. It was like a turtleneck, except the collar was a little larger and kind of puffed out like a scarf. I frowned at it, and picked at the access material.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, my eyes widening at how kickass I looked already. The gear clung to my figure, and made me look and feel more streamline than I probably was. The shirt alone showed off the flatness of my stomach and the slight muscles in my arms. The pants showed how lean and long my legs were, and made me look tall.

I picked at the weird collar again, and pulled it out, my image in the mirror following my movements. It stretched out accordingly, and I slowly pulled it over my nose and mouth. The material clung to my skin instantly, but not in a restricting way, and it hid my face.

I looked like an assassin.

I pushed the weird collar/bandanna/thing back down around my neck, and reached for the weird patches of black.

Fingerless gloves. That was nice. I stopped trying to keep them some time ago, since I always lost track of them. These felt softer and more fitted for my hands than any of the other gloves I had, which was kind of cool. Elves knew how to make kickass clothes.

I then reached for one of the last items, pulling up a long piece of black material. I accidentally knocked over two long hollow tubes that looked like they were made of tough leather, and could be laced up. Oh my God, wrist guards?! I'd lost my own _ages_ ago.

I looked back at the material in my hands and held it out in front of me. It was a coat. I threw it on, realizing it didn't weigh me down, and felt light like a jacket. The front of the coat went down just below the crotch of my pants, and the back went even lower to the back of my knees. It had a slit in the back that created coattails, making it easier for running or riding horses.

I buttoned the coat up, finding the collar of my shirt hung out, looking again like a scarf than a mask. Even though the material was thicker than the pants and shirt, the coat was streamline on me. it was thin enough for hiding, and was perfectly fitted around my body. Tight, but not too tight.

I grabbed the hood and flipped it over my head, finding it was impressively large and went over my forehead. Very nice.

I bent down and grabbed the wrist guards laying on the floor. I laced them up tightly on my wrists, finding the black beasts thicker and way tougher looking than the flimsy ones I used to have. They went up almost to my elbow, making me look even more like the part.

I found the boots sitting next to the chair. Clinging, tall riding boots that went up to my knees. They were laced, and once I had them tightened perfectly around my legs, I grabbed my seraph blades, and strapped them on.

When I looked in the mirror, I pulled up the face mask around my nose and mouth, and then lifted the hood over my head. I grinned, even though I couldn't see my own mouth, finding myself too giddy to care.

"I'm Batman," I growled huskily at the reflection.

Someone started knocking on the door, and I quickly pushed my hood back and put the face mask-collar down. I raked a hand through my hair, and turned to face the doorway as an elven maid crept in.

"We will take your remaining clothes," she said, "and keep them until you come back to Rivendell to collect them."

I could only nod, stealing glances at myself in the mirror as the handmaid collected my jacket, T-shirt, jeans, and combat boots.

"The rest of the Fellowship is beginning to assemble downstairs," she added. "A steward will show you the way."

_**.M.I.W.**_

I fiddled with my new, badass wrist guards as I stepped out to meet the Fellowship outside. All eyes were trained on me, I knew, so I didn't look up.

"Sorry if I'm late," I said instead, grabbing the rucksack a servant held out to me. It was soft, dark brown, leather, and way heavier than I thought it would be. I almost staggered under its weight, but quickly masked it by slinging it over my shoulders. It settled on my back over my swords, and I hoped it made me look more the part. "I had to change."

When I finally looked at the Fellowship, I found the Hobbits weren't present yet. But the rest of the Fellowship still stared at me, with… mixed emotions.

Gimli looked at me like I might as well have been a thorn in his side, Boromir made sure his expression told me he wasn't impressed, Aragorn nodded like he thought the outfit was cool, Legolas still looked like he didn't know what to make of me, and Gandalf… Gandalf had something in his expression that seemed… wistful, almost.

And Bill the Pony looked more interested in eating grass at this point, so I doubted his opinion about me was negative.

I squared my shoulders and held the straps of the bag, and stepped up to Gimli and Boromir, who were luckily standing next to each other.

"Look," I said, "I'm sorry about how I treated you during the council. I was caught off guard, and I know that doesn't excuse how immature I was, but that's why I came off as I did. It also didn't help that that magic ring or whatever likes to make people argue, and conflict's kind of like my favorite hobby. But since we're going to be traveling together for a while, I don't think starting off on the wrong foot is the way to go."

I stuck my hand out between them, who were looking at it warily. "So… can we just… start over? My name is Madison Verdantia, but you should call me Madi. I fight with twin swords that light up when I use them, I kind of don't know when to shut up, I'm obnoxious, cocky, and I dance when I'm bored. I like cows and fighting and sarcasm."

I pushed my hand further out towards them. "It's nice to meet you," I added.

Aragorn, Gandalf, and Legolas looked on with varying degrees of interest. I was left hanging for a few seconds, until Gimli reached out and grasped my hand in a tight grip.

"I am Gimli, son of Gloin," he introduced himself in a deep, rolling voice. "It is a pleasure as well."

When he released my hand, I looked up at Boromir. He gave me a careful onceover, then finally made a half-bow towards me. "It's a pleasure, my lady," he answered gruffly. I smiled and nodded back, then turned to stand near Aragorn and Gandalf.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Aragorn smirking.

It was then the Hobbits joined us. They were dressed in fresh traveling clothes and carrying bulging packs of food a small, dagger-like swords were hitched to their hips. They tottered near us, Frodo looking between Gandalf, Aragorn and I as if he were waiting for something.

Gandalf made the first move.

"Well," he said, turning to exit the city. "I suppose now is as good a time as any."

We left.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**So, Madi's getting training tips from Aragorn. Hopefully Legolas will help too. And awww yeah, new gear! I have a link of what I based it on in my author's page (the art is definitely not mine, in case I need to mention that).**

**Yes? No? Hell no?**

**Elvish Translation:**

_**ta naa seasamin**_**: it is my pleasure**


	10. False Advertising

**So, my friend decided to be really awesome and buy me an iced mocha to coax me away from my computer. Unfortunately, she decided to say, "It's here, Madi, it's waiting for you" so now all I'm imagining is a liquidized Furby at her house. The chances of me getting off of my couch are now… nonexistent.**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**trollalalala:**** Your name is so difficult to type. Kid you not, every time I try to write it down I always ask myself, "Is it four la's or three? Goddammit I guess I'll have to look two hundred times just to be safe." Anyway, she did, which I was not expecting to write. Madi's getting mature, and it's making me uncomfortable. Sorry for the lack of updates, I sincerely blame Furbies and iced mochas. Oh, and work.**

**Random Person 94:**** Thanks! I love Madi's gear too. I stumbled across it when internet surfing and had a heart attack at how freaking awesome it looked. (In my best Bob Saget voice: **_**And that, kids, is how I decided to write a Lord of the Rings story**_**) And hell yes, Madi and Boromir are going combative, I'm so excited for that, you've got no idea. I've been going through the old stories, and I miss Jace and Madi's bromance too. Things got so angsty in the last **_**Mortal Instruments**_** story. Thinking back on it, I would do a lot of things differently already. Anyways, I'm pretty sure all life on Middle Earth would perish with Jace **_**and**_** Madi there – two hotheads against **_**armies**_** of monsters? There would be no survivors!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Shake, Shake, Shake**_** ~ Bronze Radio Return**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**10. False Advertising**

I'm not sure what emotion or idea any _Lord of the Rings_ book or movie has ever instilled in you, but I'll tell you what it instilled for me.

I really liked the whole idea of fighting for a team. It seemed really cool to have a bond with just this select group of people who were all chosen for a heroic purpose. As I got older, I kind of realized I wasn't that much of a team player so I didn't deal with it. Then when I became the Lone Ranger with an unreliable as fuck Tanto definitely ruined the whole concept of 'team' for me. So the dream to become part of a cool Fellowship was sort of dashed.

Another aspect I liked was the whole kickass medieval honor system. This was the place where you made a promise and you stuck by it, or just lived by these insane _causes_ that wouldn't have been able to pay the bills back home in the twenty-first century. Here you just did shit because it was right, or whatever.

Another thing about _Lord of the Rings_ I totally got on board with was the fantastic scenery. I mean, for real, the world of Middle Earth is dramatic and understated all at once. It has sexy moves-like-Jagger mountains, rolling-in-the-deep grasslands, dark-as-Batman's-outlook-on-life forests, and extreme death valleys (complete with awe-inspiring volcanoes). Middle Earth just looks like a place you can get lost in. When I learned the films were made in New Zealand, it only made sense that one of my dreams include traveling to that very underrated country. Maybe I could try going after this.

Seriously, Middle Earth is probably a college student's dream vacation. Backpacking across the world, meeting new cultures, actually living a life that doesn't involve credit card bills or gas mileage. Here, it's cheap. You can just live off the land, no income taxes or GPAs required. In America you pay to be allowed to settle somewhere. Here, any place is your place if you want it bad enough.

That being said, these _Lord of the Rings_-isms are a load of shit.

Let's talk about when you're in a Fellowship with nine other dudes (or just people, really). Things get crowded quickly. I'm the Lone Ranger with an unreliable Tanto for a reason. I can deal with being on my own. I realize I kind of enjoy it when all of these huge guys eat so much food there's hardly anything left over (yeah, totally looking at you Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir), or when people are talking so loud while you're trying to sleep (Pippin and Merry and, you guessed it, fucking Boromir!) and you can't catch much of a break. All prime real estate in front of the campfire at night gets taken up way too fast by loud snoring neighbors, so I've started making my own space a couple of yards away. Legolas must agree with me on that aspect, because he's taken to camping near me (but definitely not close enough to be confused with us being friends or anything, _no_) when nights are particularly restless.

And that kickass honor system? Yeah, that gets to be a little much when you're the only girl in this circus. The guys have been pretty reasonable compared to what I guess normal medieval dudes are like: they respect that I have skill, understand I'm a little less rugged than them (but more so than a Hobbit), and haven't once made any jokes on my gender. What isn't very honorable, though, are the lingering looks (Pippin, Merry, sometimes Gimli and, obviously, fucking Boromir) I get when I'm taking off my coat, or stretching, leaving to go take a bath in some pond someone's deemed safe (I usually go first due to what I like to call gender superiority), or doing anything else minutely feminine. I cut their shit whenever they try to do something for my sake, like carry firewood when it's obviously my turn (totally fine with passing off work when I can, but I don't want them to think I'm weak) or whenever someone thinks there's a threat, I get shoved back with the Hobbits. Gandalf usually laughs when stuff like that happens, Aragorn doesn't know how to deal with it.

So, the fantastic scenery? It's a pain in the ass to navigate. Now I'm definitely _not_ saying it's too much for me to handle. In fact, I can keep up with Legolas half the time (who, yes, _still_ doesn't know how to deal with anything I do apparently). But it is a workout. There are craggly rocks to climb since we're hitting more and more rocky places, and Hobbits, and Bill the Pony. It's difficult travel when you're waiting on or helping so many inexperienced people. Not to say that I've done a lot of cross-country travel (well, walking-cross-country-travel, that is) but I do feel more physically prepared for enduring these long hikes than the Hobbits. At least they're roughing up, though. Slowly, but they're getting more used to travel.

So yeah, it's been ups and downs. I think I would enjoy Middle Earth more by myself, but I've gotten over the idea of having private moments, and I just kind of keep more to myself than not. I know I can edge on people's nerves, and dealing with all-Madi all-day might get exhausting and not helpful.

I guess we're making good time. I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop on this whole Rohan's Gap thing or whatever, to be honest. I haven't been measuring how many miles we've gone or judging the time it'll take us to get there like Gandalf and Aragorn have. I think maybe Gandalf knows something too, because the amount of times the map is pulled out have dwindled in the past week.

It's midmorning at a place Gandalf called the Eregion Hills. Instead of grass, it's mostly rock with scanty, scraggly trees growing up from dirt far below rocky plains. The heat hits us in all directions, which is great at night, but not so much during the day.

Our little team was in the midst of what was surely becoming a morning routine. Sam crouched near our fire, coaxing it back to life in order to make breakfast either Aragorn or Legolas would catch – which usually consisted of rabbit or some sort of bird. Boromir had taken it upon himself to teach the Hobbits how to fight with their swords, which was always something to laugh at. Gimli and Gandalf weren't exactly morning people (I wasn't much of one either, so I didn't judge), and started their mornings off sitting furthest from the group for a smoke.

Not really in the mood to get back into any tobacco-induced habits (seriously, kids, ten out of ten would _not_ recommend), I avoided them, but didn't have much other place to go. Somehow, this ended up with Frodo, Sam, and I becoming a trio. Frodo and I watched Sam make breakfast, not really saying anything, sometimes laughing at Boromir's attempts to teach Merry and Pippin how to sword (because there's no other way to say it, really).

This morning it wasn't really much different, except for the fact Gandalf suggested leaving the Eregion Hills until later this afternoon. Because of this, Legolas decided to do lunch-time hunting, while Aragorn stayed behind. He and I sat next to each other and watched Boromir try to train Merry and Pippin.

Boromir swiped out with his much longer blade, almost clipping Pippin in the side. I frowned when Pippin let out a yelp of surprise (though he sounded a lot more afraid than not), and almost got chopped in half.

"Get away from the blade, Pippin," Boromir said, exaggerated. "On your toes. Good, very good. I want you to react, not think."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Sam grumbled, and I snorted as Aragorn cracked a smile.

Boromir swiped out with his blade again, slower. "Move your feet," he instructed.

Pippin tried to dodge the blade, but it was still too fast for him. He let out a short curse and sighed in frustration. "It's no use," he exclaimed. "I'm no good at this."

"Because you're going at it the wrong way," I said, standing up. Pippin and Boromir looked up at me as I set my swords down next to my coat that lay on the ground. I hopped off of my stone seat and next to Pippin. "Maybe we shouldn't be teaching you guys how to fight."

Boromir was the first to scoff. "We can't simply guard them forever. They'll have to know how to fend for themselves."

"Yeah, I know," I replied. "I'm just thinking maybe we can teach them how to evade instead of attack. The best offense is a good defense, right?"

Pippin looked unsure, while Boromir raised an eyebrow at me.

"And besides," I smiled, wheeling around to look at Gandalf. "Hobbits are known for their light feet and ability to disappear without a trace, right Gandalf?"

He frowned, puffing out a cloud of smoke. "Indeed," he grumbled around the mouthpiece of his pipe.

Yes, that was a minute dose of trolling that never hurt anyone. Honestly, I don't even think Gandalf caught it.

"So we should play on those strengths," I concluded, looking down at Pippin. "You can dance, right?"

He frowned, but nodded.

"Great!" I said, standing beside him. "Show me what you can do."

Boromir huffed. "You can't be serious –"

"Just go with me on this," I said. The man rolled his eyes and sat down on a rock a few feet out of the way. "Come on, Pip."

"Well, I don't – well…"

I rolled my eyes and took a few steps away from him. "Can you do this?" I asked, starting an easy Indian top rock (which is basically hopping on the tips of your toes and moving your feet around each other in a square-like pattern, Google it).

Pippin's eyes brightened in recognition, and he imitated me. I honestly didn't think he could do it with his huge feet, but he coordinated them surprisingly well. I grinned.

"Nice! Now, how about this?"

I pulled a quick pencil drop, and shifted to the left. Pippin studied me, seemed to weigh over his options, then copied me. His pencil drop was a little less graceful than mine, but it got the job done, and I nodded.

"Well done, Pip," Merry said.

"Thanks," he answered, grinning at me. I smiled back.

"I just gave you two epic dance moves that will save your life… indefinitely," I informed him. "Or, at least, until you learn how to use a sword."

"How does a simple jig and twirl save someone's _life_?" Boromir demanded. He stood up from his seat and stomped towards me, anger clearly written on his face. I folded my arms across my chest. "Such delusions will get them _killed_."

I glanced back at Pippin when I heard a sharp intake of breath. Pippin had turned white, and his face crumpled into sadness like Boromir and I just kicked a puppy. He started edging towards his sword on the ground to pick it up. I glared at Boromir, folding my arms across my chest. The man watched Pippin slink towards the edge of our training circle, looking guilty in an understated sort of way.

"You're going to get them killed with your style of fighting," I said. "They can't do strength and brawn like _you_ can."

"And dancing will solve that problem?"

"Wanna test it?" I demanded. He looked like he was weighing his options, and I took a few steps back. "Come at me, dude. Let's see how fast you are."

Boromir nodded, then flipped his huge beast-of-a-sword. "All right, Lady Madison. Just know you put this fate upon yourself."

I scoffed at him and shook my arms to get the stiffness out of them. "Whatever you say, Sir Boromir."

He lunged forward, swiping his blade out in a wide arc. While he swiped down to my right, I ducked under the blow using a pencil drop and rose to the left, skirting out of his way. I skipped back a few steps, starting to focus. Boromir spun around and swiped out, copying his first attack. It caught me off guard when he cut straight for my side.

_Swip!_

"Shit," I growled, clinging to my arm. The cut already welled with blood, and I glared up at Boromir.

He looked surprised he landed the hit, quickly shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I –"

He cut my pride more than anything. I'd been underestimating this guy for the entire week and a half we traveled together. I assumed because he had an asshole personality, he was an asshole fighter. Meaning he barely thought, wasn't calculating, and an easy win.

Obviously not. Shit, Madi, there was a _reason_ this guy was allowed to go on the trip. He may be an asshole and seem like an idiot, but his smarts probably all went into his process.

I hopped back, already reformulating my process. "Again," I commanded.

No more games.

He didn't back off, that's for sure. He surged forward, and I did a quick Indian top rock to slide out of the range of his hit. He jabbed out, and I jerked to the side, just out of the way. He swung out in a wide arc and I ducked in time, only to see him use the momentum to swing back in an arc too low for me to duck under and too high for me to jump over.

I shoved myself backwards, landing successfully on my ass. Boromir struck forward again, relentless and strong as a tsunami, his sword pointed for my neck. Without a second thought, I grabbed the metal and pulled it towards my throat, which caused one of the Hobbits to let out a shriek. I turned on my side at the last second, digging the tip of the blade into the crevice between two rocks where my neck had been. I bent around the sword, using one leg to prop my lower body up, and kicked out with my free foot. It made solid contact with Boromir's sternum, and he flew back with a winded gasp, taking his sword with him.

I pulled myself back up to my feet, dusting off my shirt, and smirked back at the Hobbits. "And _that_ is how dancing can save your life," I explained.

Merry and Pippin crowed in delight as I turned around to Boromir. He pulled himself up to his feet, breathing raggedly. "You are fairly quick, Lady Madison," he said, inclining his head. I smiled back at him.

Pippin and Merry both scampered down their rock seat to join in the fight, clamoring for Boromir to spar with them next. I let the knight of Gondor have at it, needing to catch a quick breath myself. The session had gotten a little too intense for me. There was a thin line between fun and fighting for me, and I almost crossed it.

Once I made it back to my seat, Aragorn gave me a strip of cloth bandage. I nodded thanks and wrapped it around my arm, surprised to see Legolas had already swept through the scene, dropping three pheasants next to Sam for lunch. I looked up, seeing the elf make his way towards a rock outcropping, and stood rather stoically against a breeze that tousled his long blond hair.

I had no idea what this dude's problem was. he wa stick in the mud this entire trip, mainly keeping to himself or talking to Aragorn or Gandalf. He seemed to have a low tolerance for everyone, mainly Gimli, I was sure. Those two snipped at each other a lot more than the movie gave them credit for. Of course, that's all they were, snips and jibes, but it was still a little disconcerting.

When helping the Hobbits (the few times that he did) on the rougher parts of this trek, he looked exasperated, like he didn't understand the point of them being here. Maybe it was just Legolas who didn't have a point being here. I regretted thinking that. But so far he'd been a massive jerk, which made most of my hero-worship dwindle in a matter of… seconds. I thought he was supposed to be good natured or something.

Not really in the mood to watch him be so picturesque for long, I made my way over towards Gimli and Gandalf, who finished their moonlighting shift as chimneys and started looking over the map.

"If anyone were to ask for my opinion, which I note they have not," Gimli began, "I would say we are taking the _long_ way round. Gandalf, we can pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."

Gandalf looked up at me as I sat down next to them, giving the map a quick glance as I tightened the knot around my bandage. The wound already stopped bleeding and barely stung. It wasn't worth much worry.

As I made myself comfortable on another rock, I found Gandalf's careful blue gaze still on me. I looked back at him, then down at the map. Wait. Did Gimli just suggest we go through _Moria_?

"No, Gimli," Gandalf finally said. "I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."

"I agree," I said. "Moria is way too dangerous. I don't care what you say, it really isn't dwarves running the show down there."

Gimli _harrumphed_. "And just who do you think _runs the show_?"

Gandalf looked at me then, his brows furrowing in confusion.

_Clang!_

"_Ow_!"

"I'm so sorry!"

I whipped my head around to the small training circle Boromir and the Hobbits formed. I saw a flash of crimson on Pippin's hand as he shook it, and Boromir looking appropriately abashed. "I didn't mean to –" Boromir started, but was cut off by a raging battle cry Merry initiated.

Both Hobbits barreled straight towards him, tackling the man to the ground. I smiled, listening to Sam, Frodo, and Aragorn laugh. Even Gandalf allowed a small chuckle.

But something else buzzed at the edge of my hearing. I frowned, and turned back towards Legolas. He looked stiff on his perch, shoulders squared back, jaw taught. I followed his line of sight, my heart pounding when I saw a dark cloud swirling around in the sky. The noise raged on, becoming jagged, hoarse notes I immediately associated with bird cries.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

Gimli scoffed. "Nothing. Just a wisp of a cloud, smoke even."

Even still, the camp became incredibly still. I slowly stood up, and made my way for my stuff. No one really noticed.

"No, no, it's moving too fast," Boromir said as I collected my coat and swords. "Against the wind."

The noises from the cloud became obvious to my hearing now. They really were the crows of blackbirds, and I found my body tensing.

Legolas spun around, finally facing us. "Crebain from Dunland!"

"Hide!" Aragorn shouted.

The camp scattered faster than I could understand what the hell Crebain from Dunland even meant.

Boromir ushered Merry, Pippin, and Sam towards a small nook between some rocks that would support the four of them. Aragorn had already taken Frodo with him behind a jagged rock. Gimli practically disappeared amidst a patch of brambles, and Gandalf cloaked himself in the shadows of two tall rocks.

Fear hit me immediately. I wasn't near a place that would fit me. I felt my limbs slowly, one by one, freeze like a deer in the headlights.

Suddenly, a warm arm tucked around my waist, followed by a harsh whispered, "_Riach!_" My whole weight tipped over to the side, and I realized I'd been tackled into a patch of scraggly trees, with my swords sticking uncomfortably against my back. I grabbed my coat and flicked it over me and whoever saved me, hoping it would give us both more camouflage.

The arm still trapped me from moving anywhere, and I realized I was gripping the person's shoulder for dear life. My eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness my coat provided, and I found myself staring into two bright blue eyes.

Shit.

Legolas glared at me in the dim light. This dude had an iron hold, and he had me pulled flush against him. I wasn't about to move any time soon, definitely against wanting to attract any kind of bad-guy (or is it bad-bird?) attention. But I did release my grip on his shoulder, holding out both hands in front of me in silent apology. He rolled his eyes, and his focus shifted to something over my head as he seemed to settle for total stillness. I dropped my hands and pulled my arms closer against me, further realizing my head was propped up on Legolas's other arm.

Shit again.

The noises of flapping wings grew closer and closer, as well as the sharp _caws_ that littered the air. It would only be seconds until they were on us.

My body stiffened automatically when I heard them soar over the camp, blind to everything going on outside. I resigned myself to staring at Legolas's chest. He wore a dark green tunic with some white, long sleeved shirt underneath. The fabric was mostly taken over by his wrist guards. I didn't look any lower, focusing on the green tunic, and the brown leather strap that stretched across his chest. I decided it had to be part of his quiver.

As the crows still circled our campsite, I realized a couple of things. One, the birds were going to see the campfire, so we were pretty much out of luck. Two, the coat may have been a good idea, but it wasn't covering me or Legolas's legs. Three, if Legolas had no opinion of me before, it certainly swung in the direction of bad now. Four, speaking of Legolas, he didn't look a lot like Orlando Bloom. And five, he smells like pine needles, even though we haven't been near a forest in _days_.

A single, harsh croak pierced the air above all other noise, making me shrink back against my swords. They poked me in the back again, but it brought on more comfort than being in the arms of a complete stranger. Legolas tightened his had around my ribs, like he was debating on whether or not to crush them. He seemed to approach levels of five hundred percent done-ness the longer I laid next to him.

And yeah, I get it. This is _purely_ for survival. There are _no_ ulterior motives here. In fact, now dealing with him in real life, Legolas is kind of a eunuch – or at least he's acted like one to me. So what if I used to have a crush on the guy when I was a little kid? It's _obviously_ seen my taste for guys is a little off kilter, so it just makes _sense_ my first childhood crush is spent on a eunuch with a bow.

I digress, though.

Just because this is purely for survival, would it kill the guy _not_ to make me feel like the biggest inconvenience in the world?

The sound of birds started to die off, and I felt more relief for the fact I could get out of this mess than the chance of fighting a bunch of bad guys. I heard someone shuffling on the rocks a few seconds later, and I jerked my coat off of us. Legolas wheeled out from underneath the trees, and I realized just then how fast my heart was beating.

I clambered out from the trees, trying to look as dignified as possible, but ended up getting caught on the brittle branches _more than twice_ as I stood up.

"Spies of Saruman," Gandalf said gravely. "The passage South is being watched."

I shook out my coat before throwing it on. The hood fell over my head, and I ignored it as I reached into one of the deep pockets to pull out my wrist guards.

"We must take the pass of Caradhras," Gandalf decided. I looked up from lacing the leather on my arms to watch Gandalf gesture towards mountains.

Well this sounded like the beginning of an epic joke. What do you get when you mix four Hobbits, a pony, and an incline?

A long trip, probably.

I sighed, lacing on the second wrist guard before hitching on my swords on my shoulders. When I glanced up, I saw Legolas giving me a wary look, which I decided to ignore for the greater good of this trip.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Duh, duh, **_**DUH!**_** Man, this chapter was a monster. What'd you guys think of it?**

**Sorry if it's so rambl-ie. I kind of wanted to lay down a quick foundation of Fellowship travel before really delving into it.**


	11. And Though She be Little, She is Fierce

**Okay, so, if you go back through the previous chapters, you'll notice I've made some changes to them. Some are kind of huge, others not so much. The story was going in a direction I didn't want it to. Madi's character was becoming manic and distant, and it was honestly freaking me out.**

**Trying to get things back to normal, because that last story was a disappointment and I want to do things right.**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**Trollalalala:**** Thanks! I'm glad you liked it!**

**Heatblizzard:**** Your comments were… interesting? I think it would be cool if a Nazgul became part of the Fellowship too, but it'd be really OOC haha. And regarding your comment about sexism: It can be sexist when a man only shows concern for a woman's wellbeing when it is strictly because she is a woman. What 'modern' women want is respect from a guy because they are a **_**person**_**, not because they are a female. This is why Madi gives the Fellowship a, as you say, "fuck off" treatment when they try to do things for her. Women in a medieval time period were considered weak and fragile, or the property of men at best. Madi wants to be considered strong and capable, which is also an essential part of her character: never show weakness. So combine that with a bunch of dudes who are taught to believe Madi is supposed to be fragile and someone's property, of course they're going to get some solid fuck yous. I really could go on about this all day, but hopefully this will be enough.**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Hummingbird**_** ~ Imaginary Cities**

_**The World at Large**_** ~ Modest Mouse**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**11. And Though She be but Little, She is Fierce**

The air started getting colder and thinner. The rocks turned into slush-on-rocks and then turned into snow-on-rocks, making the trip even more difficult. We unloaded some of the packs from Bill the Pony, and I now had an extra ten or so pounds added to my shoulders, which was… uncomfortable at best.

At least my gear held up. The boots didn't get soaked through with the slush I would trudge through, and the rest of my outfit seemed pretty much waterproof. I was pretty grateful to Elrond for being so stubborn and making me keep it.

I stayed near Frodo's side during the next leg of the trip, since he seemed to be declining a little more rapidly than the rest of the Hobbits. It didn't help that the snow and rocks were slippery too, and it would just get harder the higher we climbed.

It got to the point where the rocks disappeared underneath the snow. There were now wide blankets of snow that stretched over the mountains, and even though the sun was out, it didn't help make it any warmer.

When we hit a particularly easy part to scale, I found myself moving faster, my own pace matching with the group of Gimli, Boromir, Legolas, and Gandalf up ahead. Then I heard the snow rustle, quickly followed by a surprised gasp that made me turn around.

Frodo had fallen, and started sliding down the frosty hill we were making such good progress on.

I immediately dropped my backpack, and dove for the dark haired Hobbit. Aragorn, who had taken up the rear of the patrol, started for Frodo as well. I dropped to my knees on the snow and slid for him like a regular rock star would –

Until.

Yup, the big _until_. I was doing this _until_ I felt a deliciously hot, painful vibration shoot down my spine. It was like someone had thrown a rope around me and started pulling me backward. Frodo landed into Aragorn's legs, and I threw my leg out to stop me from sliding any further. I then turned around in a runner's position, focusing on what exactly wanted me back.

A little gold circle sat atop a patch of disturbed snow. It glinted in the sun, winking at me, and I felt whispers thrum through my mind in a language I (yet again) didn't understand. But one word became painfully clear.

_Verdantia…_

That startled me into standing up, and I ended up staring dumbly at the Ring.

_Verdantia…_

I took a slow step forward, curiosity hitting hard and fast. How did it know my name? Well, hold on, it fucking should. I _am_ Madison Verdantia, after all. I get attacked by demons on the daily, how could it not? I am one badass motherfucker. I wonder if that stupid piece of jewelry could make me even more badass –

A large, gloved hand gripped the Ring's chain and pulled it off of the ground. It felt like a slap to the face. Startled, I stumbled a few steps back, automatically reaching for one of my seraphs.

"Madi…?" Frodo murmured, which felt like a punch to the stomach.

I dropped my hands to my sides, curling them into fists, watching Boromir stare at the Ring intensely. I was probably the same way a couple of seconds ago.

"Boromir?" Aragorn barked, a lot more focused on the Gondor knight than me. He probably assumed I had my shit together.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing…" Boromir noted as he turned the Ring on its chain and around in his hands, "such a little thing."

When he began to cup the Ring in his hands was when I about lost my shit. "H – Hey!" I yelped, taking a step forward. I didn't know why I felt so… concerned in that second. I didn't know if it was because of the selfish pull the Ring had on me or because I was genuinely worried Boromir would turn evil. But I snapped him out of his trance, and the knight stared at me in shock.

"Boromir…" Aragron said, warily. "Give the ring to Frodo."

Boromir scoffed, and started trumping down the hill like nothing was wrong. When he edged closer with the Ring, warning bells shot off in my head, tingling at the corners of my mind. I immediately skirted away from the three of them, causing Frodo to give me a weird look.

"As you wish," Boromir said haughtily. "I care not."

He held the Ring out to Frodo, who snatched it back like a feral animal would accept food. Boromir laughed a little, and ruffled Frodo's mess of curls.

I turned my back on the scene, hearing Boromir's huge boots crunch back up the snow, and grabbed my backpack. With Aragorn, Frodo would be safe. I threw the heavy thing over my shoulders, letting its weight settle over my seraph blades.

Boromir passed me without much of a second glance, and I ended up following close behind, a little nervous of him and a little nervous of myself so close to the Ring.

I knew he had to have noticed the wary looks the rest of the Fellowship gave him as he trekked up the hill. This had to be a job hazard everyone else forgot. The Ring of Power is supposed to be a manipulative sonofabtich. Of course it's going to screw with our brains whenever it gets whipped out.

However, it seemed like only Boromir had been most affected. I think I was too, but I had been quieter about it.

So, I hustled up the hill, sending Legolas a dark look when he stared after Boromir a little too long and a little too judgmentally. He started when we made eye contact, and he focused back on Frodo or something else down the hill.

Once I reached the knight's side, I shoved his shoulder with mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him look down at me, but I stared at the path ahead. "It's all right," I said.

We didn't say anything else, and I made sure to stay by him for the rest of the day.

_**.M.I.W.**_

The Pass of Caradhras was just as awful as the move suggested it was.

The wind was cold, biting, angry, and cut through to my bones. Even with the buttoned up coat, drawn up shirt collar and thrown over hood, nothing prepared me for walking through snow piled up to the top of my _ribcage_.

The rest of the Fellowship seemed to be soldiering on all right. But then again, a majority of them were extremely tall, extremely burly, and could carry two Hobbits through the snow at a time. Legolas pranced along the top of the snow, like the mystical eunuch that he was, and scouted ahead.

I tugged Bill the Pony along, my hand caught up in his bridle. The pony didn't really understand what was happening besides cold winds. He constantly just _stopped_ where he was. Instinct, I guessed, made him want to hunker down and ride out the storm. I wished we could.

My teeth clanked against each other in the cold, and I tried to grind them together so my jaw wouldn't fly off my face. It was miserable business, climbing a freezing cold mountain. Definitely _not_ sexy-moves-like-Jagger.

Legolas traipsed back and forth on top of the snow, helping the rest of the gravity-inclined Fellowship as best he could. This meant helping Boromir and Aragorn drag the Hobbits along. At one point he fell in one of the snowy trenches we made when trying to yank Pippin above the snowline.

Gimli burst out laughing – a warm sound against the cold. I couldn't help but laugh too, since the whole scene happened right in front of my face. Legolas shook his head, shaking off some of the snow clinging to his pale hair, and sent me a disdainful look. As he made his way back up toward Gandalf, who had been leading the way, he kicked a little snow in Gimli's face. The dwarf sputtered and coughed, cursing some things that made the tips of my ears burn in embarrassment for even hearing. Aragorn told Gimli to shut up, while Legolas gave a small, dark humored laugh.

My focus quickly changed when a gust of wind rolled on past. It sounded low, dark, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. This time, Bill the Pony had to drag me along to get me to move. I could have sworn I heard a word in that wind.

Legolas froze, making everyone else stop too. "There is a fell voice in the wind," he yelled, loud enough for all of us to hear.

Another breeze shot past us, and I heard more chanting carrying with it. I pulled Bill to a stop, and the horse snorted. "I hear it too!" I shouted back.

"It's Sarumon!" Gandalf answered, his voice edging on panic. Oh man. If Gandalf edged on panic, we were screwed.

Then I felt the world underneath my feet start to vibrate, making Bill startle next to me. He tried to back down back the way we came, effectively slamming me into the mountainside. I struggled to handle him, the situation not exactly evoking my horse-whispering side, and more or less my horse-cussing-outer side. Some rubble started raining down on us, which added to the pony's building hysteria.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled. "Gandalf! We must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf cried.

Bill slammed me into the mountainside again. My head cracked against the hard rock. "_Fuck_!" I cried out.

Boromir spun around, ushering Pippin and Sam to huddle near Aragorn's side as he came to wrestle with the pony. "Lady Madison, are you hurt?" He demanded.

I couldn't answer, my eyes locked on Gandalf as he threw up his staff up towards the sky. His voice boomed over the winds and Saruman's dark chanting, "_Losto Caradhras! Sedho, hodo, nuitho I ruith!_"

I felt familiar tingling sensations shoot down the back of my head and span across my shoulders. The mountain's shaking began to settle, and Boromir forced Bill into submission. I gripped the back of my head, hoping I wasn't bleeding as I glared down at Boromir's huge leather boots.

"I'm all right!" I waved him off. "Thanks!"

I was drowned out as the wind started growing wilding and the dark chanting grew louder. It was deafening, like we were in the middle of the clouds during a thunder storm.

_CRACK!_

Bill the Pony's bray shot through my ears as the horse tried to pull away. I grabbed the horse's reins again and shoved him down before he could buck out of my reach. A fearful cry sounded next, and I looked up just in time as a blanket of snow began to drop on us.

My own instinct took over as I grabbed Bill's harness and shoved his head into my chest, the horse too oblivious in his fear to notice in time. I bowed my body over him, hoping it would shield him from the snowfall so he could breathe.

At first, for a second, a light sprinkle of snow tickled down my spine. But it was quickly followed with a massive weight. It knocked the air out of my lungs, Bill staggered underneath me, and the world went dark.

_**.M.I.W.**_

I was in darkness.

An old, familiar dread washed through me, locking my muscles in place. I tried to make my eyes wider to get them accustomed to the darkness, but it didn't work. Memories of night terrors hit me hard and fast. Was it happening again? I killed the demon that cursed me with them!

Just as I started expecting a snarl, harsh, hot breaths fanned my stomach. I screamed, though it was muffled in the snow packed against me. Then I felt Bill the Pony's muscles twitching against my legs as he struggled for freedom against the ice.

I wasn't dreaming. This wasn't a night terror. I was fine. I was okay.

I tried to move my arms, but my body was packed down against the horse. Every time I tried to breathe snow would shoot up my nose. Okay, maybe I wasn't fine. Maybe I was in huge trouble.

I started to panic.

I couldn't move. My arms and legs and torso and head were weighed down by the snow in all directions. I don't really know how to describe it besides being trapped in a Jell-O mold, except a lot heavier and a lot colder. The weight crushed me, burned my lungs as I started to struggle too.

What if I died in here? Holy crap, I was in _Lord of the Rings_ – the place of boundless and glorious fight scenes, and instead of dying in the field, I would die in a freaking _snow drift_?! This couldn't happen! I was _not_ this weak! But it seemed like I was, because I couldn't move, couldn't hear, couldn't see, wanted to throw up and sleep at the same time.

Then something warm wrapped around my bicep, and started yanking me upwards – or, at least, it felt upwards. I didn't care about who or what was changing that, so I grabbed onto Bill's bridle to force him up too, knowing if I just left him there I would be _beyond_ guilty. Even though the horse had been a pain in the ass, it didn't know any better, and we could both have a chance to live.

A bright light assaulted my eyes first, and biting winds cut past my ears. My ears were ringing with white noise. I felt something tight against my mouth and nose, and shoved it down forcing sharp, cold air into my lungs. Something was jostling me, shoving me around, and making the world even more disorienting. I had to blink past my blurry vision to figure out what it was before I would kill it.

The world around me became clear again. I saw snow, and gray clouds, and blackish-gray rocks. Then I saw Bill the Pony, looking bewildered but in better shape than me, standing in the snow, staring at me with big cow eyes. I craned my neck around, finding the Hobbits staring at me in fear, then Boromir and Aragorn's concern, followed by Gimli's mouth moving (but I had no idea what he was saying), Gandalf standing with his hand extended towards me.

I felt deaf to the world, and shook my head, feeling myself jostled around again.

"_MADI!_"

The scream was like lightning stabbing right into my system, fizzling all of my nerve endings back to life. I felt cold – freezing cold – and realized my eyes and nose were watering. I couldn't feel my face or fingers, but I did feel something trying to rub warmth against my arm. And I realized I was wrapped around in something warm and huge and it smelled like pine needles.

I looked up into two bright blue eyes, staring at me with… worry?

"I – I'm here!" I shouted meekly in return, which earned a few chuckles from the Fellowship, and a nod of affirmation from Legolas.

"For a moment, you weren't," he explained, pulling me up to my feet. I pulled my hand out of his quickly, but found myself sinking right back into a shallow snow drift that brought the snow back up to my shoulders. I felt unbalanced, a little dizzy, and more than panicked. I reaching back to grab onto Bill's harness with one hand to stay afloat, realizing how raggedly I started breathing.

"We cannot pass over this mountain!" Gimli cried. "Since no one can navigate its surface, let us go under it! Gandalf, let us go through the mines of Moria!"

_Oh God_, I swallowed, trying to pull myself up to a more reasonable height. Legolas crouched down next to me, reaching out to take my free hand again. I refused, pulling myself closer to Bill. "I'm fine," I muttered.

"You look as panicked as a newborn lamb," Legolas noted.

"Let the Ringbearer decide," Gandalf said.

"Well, yeah, uneven terrain can do that to a person," I said, forcing myself to stay still rather than sink into the snow even more. "We can't all have magic fairy-feet powers like you."

"We will go through the mines," Frodo had decided, cutting off what Legolas could have said.

But I could hear the graveness in Gandalf's silence. I even went still when I only heard the wind whipping past us on the mountain, Bill's breathing settle, Gandalf letting out a grizzly sigh.

"So be it," the wizard answered.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Oh yeah, look at that! A quick update? It's amazing the kind of time one has when they're off work.**


	12. To Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old

**So, I ended up watching part of **_**Teen Beach Movie**_** with my dad before work. We decided it would be best to change the channel just as we began to appreciate it. But now my curiosity is piqued, so I may have to find time to finish it.**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**Trollalalala:**** Oh, I'm sorry haha. I didn't realize the bushes thing was over-used. Yikes, my bad. But at least it was… special? Don't know if that's a good thing or not, but thank you! And thanks for liking the last chapter – hopefully this one is good too!**

**Random Person 94:**** Having Jace show up would be pretty epic. Those two can tag-team like nobody's business. As for all of your questions, I can honestly say I don't know yet, but I'm extremely excited to write all of them.**

**MehMee:**** Thank you! There are a lot of real world insertions out there – they're my favorite fanfictions to read on the LOTR forums (guilty pleasures, I guess). I totally recommend Velvet Nights and Satin Skies. Her LOTR series "Well Behaved Women Seldom…" is amazing. Not too badass, you say? I'm really excited to get into the fighting scenes with Madi, but I also want to take my time with Middle Earth. I think her speed's going to help her out, but she may need some help from a certain elf to get her at the level you're talking about.**

**Lily Noir:**** Thanks! I'm glad Madi is all of the above and more for you. Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Grade 8**_** ~ Ed Sheeran**

_**The Words of the Revelator**_** ~ Bryan John Appleby**

_**Backyard**_** ~ Guster**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**12. To Dungeons Deep and Caverns Old**

"To the left!" Aragorn shouted.

I juked to the left of Boromir's blade, then struck out to the right with Sandalphon to deflect his sword. I swung out with Metatron, but Boromir broke my (in comparison to his strength) weak block, and made aim to chop me right through my middle.

I spun around and clapped both swords together in an 'x,' then shot to the inside. My swords scraped against his, the vibrations shooting through me in a wonderfully painful way that chattered my teeth. He tried to force me down once he realized what I was doing, but I had better leverage.

"Madi," Aragorn warned.

Boromir parried hard and fast, knocking me off balance. I caught myself from tripping and tilted left again, circling around the knight of Gondor. My shoulder brushed against his back, and I heard a finite _swip_ of his sword singing through the air. I shot forward, holding myself to face Boromir again.

We danced in front of the glow of a roaring campfire set in the clearing of a scanty forest. The fire was stoked extra bright tonight to ward off the chill of the mountains. Gimli started reciting dwarfish poetry around the fire, entertaining the Hobbits and Gandalf. Legolas (as usual) looked cagey as he seemed to inspect is long knives. Merry sat next to Aragorn and watched our fight progress, clutching the dirk in his hand in excitement. I would hear snips of him exclaiming to Aragorn how fast Boromir and I were.

The tips of my fingers still tingled as I smiled at Boromir. We clashed once again, and I found an opportunity.

I went straight into him, scraping his blade aside with Metatron, and surging forward with Sandalphon until it reached his neck. We froze long before I could get near him with my sword, but we already knew I won.

"Very good," Aragorn approved.

I smiled and pulled away from Boromir, throwing up Sandalphon in triumph. "About time, huh?" I said.

"A lucky win," Boromir conceded.

I dropped Sandalphon into my left hand, letting it join Metatron as I turned around and held my hand out to him. "Yeah, right. I think I've cracked the code," I declared. "Maybe you'd like to think it's a lucky win because you can't face the truth."

Both of us panting for air, Boromir grinned and stepped towards me, turning the couple of feet of space between us into inches. He grasped my hand with the firmness expected from a knight of Gondor, but without the crippling strength. His hand was huge, and dry, and calloused from so many years with a sword. "And what truth is that?" He asked.

"That I am Middle Earth's most kickass killing machine," I replied with a grin. Boromir's lips stretched into a smile of his own, and I realized a little too late how close we really were. He ended up pulling me in from that handshake that our arms were the only things separating our bodies.

"Arrogance is a warrior's greatest folly," he answered teasingly, his hold on my hand lightening.

I scoffed at him and rolled my eyes, not quite tempted to pull away just yet. "It's called confidence," I explained.

As Boromir shook his head, I realized how tall this dude was. Extremely tall. I mean, I have accepted the fact that I am vertically challenged, but this was insane. Boromir had to be at least six-foot-three. It was becoming a strain to look up at him for so long, but the smirk on his face was definitely worth it. Because, yeah, this dude was attractive. The broad shoulders, long (but not too long) hair, dark green eyes and tanned skin. He was different from the guys I usually went for. He was combative yet reserved, and seemed to have as much zeal for practice spars as I did.

"Perhaps we should test it then," he mused, his tone turning challenging in a we're-not-really-sparring-with-swords-now kind of way. Honestly, I was a little more than interested in knowing what way he actually meant it.

"But I want to try!" Merry cried, scrambling down from his seat, officially breaking whatever direction this spar was going.

I pulled away from Boromir and gave him a brief smile before backing out of the ring. Boromir watched me as I walked away. I rumpled Merry's hair as he streaked past me.

"Go for the left," I suggested. "It's his weakest side."

Boromir made a short, scoffing sound of indignation, but it was quickly cut off by a sharp _clang!_ as Merry's sword collided with Boromir's.

I laughed and seated myself next to Aragorn, who started smoking on his pipe. I set my swords down behind the place I would take as my seat, and grabbed my coat. Since we were further away from the fire, and the mountains weren't that far behind us, I put it on to ward off the chill.

I then ran my fingers through my hair, trying to comb out the gnarled mess it had become while traveling through Caradrhas. My usual hairstyle consisted of wearing it down in all of its wavy, Mufasa-esque glory. So, being the idiot I was, I didn't think of bringing hair ties or brushes, so I was left to my own devices. I grimaced as I tugged painfully through the curls –

"Here," Aragorn said. I looked down at Aragorn's outstretched hand, finding a string of leather coiled in his palm. It was probably a tie from his wrist guard.

"It will keep your hair more manageable," he explained, pushing it towards me.

I slowly took it, nodding. "Thank you," I said. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, tying the leather strap around until it seemed felt tight enough. "How does it look?"

Gimli launched into another dwarfish story as Aragorn affirmed my new hair tie looked secure. A flash of blond movement startled me into turning around, and I was relieved to find only Legolas standing up, gathering his bow and quiver of arrows.

"I'm going hunting," he announced when he noticed some of the Fellowship looking at him too. He picked his way through the camp with his silent feet, and brushed past the training circle with ease, deftly avoiding Merry's rogue sword-slashing.

I jumped up just as he walked past Aragorn and I. "Can I go?" I blurted out.

The elf paused in mid-step, and gave me a look of pure skepticism. "Do you even have a bow?" He asked, voice smooth and low and utterly emotionless.

Oh. Right. "Um…"

"She can borrow mine," Aragorn said, pulling his bow and quiver from his pack of belongings behind him. "She ought to learn how to hunt as well."

I slung the quiver across my shoulders, the weight a little unsettling. It was so light compared to the weight of my seraphs. I took Aragorn's longbow as well, hefting the strange weapon in my hands. The wood had been stained dark, or had been crafted from dark wood, with its single string wrapped around the handle. I nodded to Aragorn, and looked up at Legolas.

The elf looked uninterested, and turned around, making his way into the forest. I hustled after him, determined to find a way to make my favorite character _not_ hate me so much. Call it hero-worship, a need to preserve something of my childhood, or whatever, but I felt like this was something I needed to do before it was too late.

_**.M.I.W.**_

I followed Legolas through the forest, trying to make my steps as quiet as his. He moved with such ease through the dense trees and thick undergrowth, not even bothering to turn around to see if I was keeping up.

We distanced ourselves further from the safety of the campsite and into a darker, colder part of the forest. Partly, I expected Legolas to whip around and chop me up or run me through with a long knife because he was just so tired of me hanging around. So, when he turned around to face me, I flinched back, which earned a confused look from him.

"Do you know how to string a bow?" He asked.

I nearly crumpled into myself at my own self-loathing. I frowned and looked down at the bow, wondering if I could just wing it. Then again, this wasn't mine. If I broke it, Aragorn would kill me. So, like a loser, I shook my head.

Legolas sighed. It was so quiet, I probably wouldn't have heard it if I didn't have these crazy superhuman abilities or whatever. I still felt my shoulders drop when the elf made his way towards me, slinging his bow over his shoulder, and reached out to take Aragorn's. His fingers brushed against mine as I surrendered it to him. I watched as his deft fingers unraveled the string coiled around the bow. He then took the string at its length, and hitched it into the top of the bow. He didn't explain how.

He thrust the bow back to me, and I grabbed it before it could slip out of my hands. He turned around and started walking further into the forest, leaving me to follow him.

Suddenly, a sharp rustling noise brought us up short. Legolas froze, and I almost walked right into him. He reached back and grasped my shoulder and dragged me to stand in front of him. "Hold your bow," he whispered in my ear. I could hear him pulling a bow out of the quiver strapped to my back.

I readied the bow and took the arrow out of Legolas's hand. With the hand used to hold my shoulder, he turned us both to the side, and used his other hand to guide my fingers into notching the arrow on the bow's string. I tried really hard to focus on whatever Legolas was hunting, instead of the fact this dude was using my body like a puppet master.

"Whatever it is will come to us," the elf said, one of his hands still on my shoulder and the other around my hand holding the bow to the string. "Stay still."

I kept rooted to my spot, focusing on breathing as silently as possible. The rustling grew louder and closer, making me stiffen. Legolas gripped my shoulder in response, his hands deceitfully strong. I ground my teeth together, biting back from telling the dude to back off.

Suddenly, a rabbit hopped right in front of our lines of sight, a few yards away. Legolas gripped my shoulder even harder and pulled up, the rest of my arm following suit as I held the bow and arrow out like your average… uh… Legolas?

The elf's body tensed around me. Tense, not exactly stiff. "Feel the motions your body makes," he ordered. He then pulled my hand holding the arrow in place back. It gave a little resistance, since the draw weight was made for a king of Gondor. It was more Legolas pulling it back than me.

The rabbit – a small, scrawny thing – was too invested in eating clovers to notice us. I swallowed, taking a little more control of the bow as I started to aim for the target. My arm muscles started shaking under the strain of holding the string back. Legolas's grip tightened.

I had the animal lined up.

"_Wait_ –" Legolas hissed.

_Fwip!_

The arrow shot into the ground, only centimeters away from the rabbit's nose. The animal startled with a strange bleating noise, and darted off into the forest.

I scowled, but Legolas's wrath had only just started. The elf pulled away from me as if I burned him. "Fantastic," he sighed.

"Sorry," I said weakly, "I thought I had it. I'll get it next time –"

"Don't you know anything? That rabbit just announced our whole presence to the forest, and you think you can just get another one _next time_?"

I glared at my boots, watching them scuff the undergrowth. He was right, but I thought I had it. And now Legolas hated me for sure. I shook my head. "You're right, I'm sorry. Maybe I should just go."

I started turning around to head back to the camp, but Legolas sighed again. "No, no. We'll find something."

Dare I say I made progress? Against all better timing, I grinned at him. The elf gave me a cautious look, but shrugged it off and headed further into the forest, leaving me to follow him.

_**.M.I.W.**_

A few days later, we descended into the valley Gandalf was sure the door to Moria could be found. We made it there by nightfall, and started picking our way to a huge, flat slab of black wall.

We had to work around the narrow shore of a lake sitting in the center of the valley, making the place more like a swamp. Trees stuck out of the pitch black, too-still water, along with huge boulders covered with a thick layer of dark moss. The water seemed to creep onto the shore, covering some of the rocks with its black water and dark swamp-grass. It sent warning bells off in my head when the water was so murky it barely reflected the giant, full moon hanging in the sky. And even though the night was clear and the moon was bright (a usual comfort), it bleached everything of its color, making the valley look sick, dying, or dead.

"The walls of Moria," Gimli said, pride seeping through his very beard. "They made their gates invisible, you know, so their enemies wouldn't find them."

No one really paid attention to him. I was too creeped out by the lake to give a comment about how little that helped us now. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and as chilled air whipped past my now bare neck, I found myself stiffening like a feral cat. This place didn't feel _right_. It felt sick, and cold, and weak.

Gandalf hustled toward the space between two huge trees, cracked with age and twisted and – again – dying. He pressed his wrinkled hand into the stone.

"Isildin," Gandalf explained. "It only reflects starlight… and moonlight."

Suddenly, bright silver lines sprouted up on the rock, swirling into the image of a huge, imposing arch door. The lines grew even more intricate in creating runic symbols and letters that shined in the moonlight. Even though the rest of this place was diseased, the door hailed us like a beacon of safety.

"Madi…" Pippin breathed. "It shines like your seraph blades!"

"So it does," I agreed, staring at the door in awe. I stepped towards it, reaching out with my hand to touch the light. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gandalf smirk.

I touched the stone wall. It was cold and hard under my hand, but somehow, it felt familiar. Cool and calm and safe and steady. It felt like a familiar pair of twin swords strapped to my back. If I was from this world, I would have assumed my swords were made from this very stone. I grinned.

"It feels like my swords!" I exclaimed. "I don't know how, it's impossible, but it – it –"

I skipped back a couple of steps, almost tripping into the water in my excitement. Boromir had to pull me upright, and I smiled up at him. He gave an indulgent smile in return as I turned and pointed at the door. "What are these words? What do they say?"

"The words are Elvish," Gandalf said. "And it reads, '_the door of Durin_, _Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter_.'"

Speak friend and enter. I laughed, pulling out my own swords. They gleamed delicately under the light of the moon, and I realized they glowed dimly right along with the door. It was confusing and exhilarating. This door and these swords could _not_ be related – they came from different _worlds_! Yet here they were, glowing under the same moon and feeling the same under my hands.

"Speak friend and enter," I repeated. I wondered if I said my last name, would the doors open like they had in the Institute of New York? Or would they if I used the names of my seraph blades?

"What do you think that means?" Merry asked.

Gandalf scoffed. "'Tis quite simple, Master Merry. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open."

"Do you know the password, Madi?" Merry asked.

I smiled even wider. I shoved my seraphs back in their scabbards, and stepped up to the door. "I don't know. Maybe," I said.

I placed my hand flat on the stone again. The light flickered teasingly at me as I did, like it knew something I didn't. My smile turned into a frown.

"Verdantia," I said.

Nothing happened.

I took a few steps back, a little more affronted than not. It made sense, though. I looked back at the confused faces of the Fellowship. "My swords only glow and work when you say their names," I said, shrugging. "This door might too. What's this dude's name again?"

I already remembered before anyone could answer me. I pressed my hand against the stone again. "_Isildin_!" I shouted.

The door didn't budge. The light shone brightly against the darkness, and I felt a whisper of amusement flex against my hand. This door was stronger than my swords. Stronger, not different.

I frowned, but shrugged again as I started walking away from the door. "I'm about as clueless as you all are now."

I stood beside Boromir, and watched as Gandalf took a stab at it.

Gandalf held his hands out to the door. "_Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen_!" He called out.

Again, the door refused to open.

_**.M.I.W.**_

A few hours later, Gandalf was no closer to opening the door. He retreated to sitting on a rock, muttering through a series of spells. Frodo and I sat near each other, while Boromir and Gimli talked about something not too far off, and Gimli smoked on his pipe. Legolas had taken to sitting near Gandalf underneath one of the trees that framed the door.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aragorn and Sam unpack bags from Bill the Pony's back. Aragorn guided the horse around, and slapped his rump. The horse started trotting away, leaving the Fellowship. So much for goodbyes.

Merry and Pippin started a rock throwing contest, which Frodo and I took to judging. So far, Merry was in the lead. When Frodo stood up to peer at the door, though, I decided to go talk to a certain elf-recluse.

"Don't you know the password?" I asked as I sat in front of him. Legolas watched me with keen, bright blue eyes. "It is Elvish, after all."

He gave a halfhearted smile. "Not my Elvish. We have several dialects, you know."

"No, I didn't," I said, glancing at the doors. "What are they called?"

"Well, the first is called Quenderin, the first language of the Elves. Then there is Avarian, Eldarin, Quenya, Telerin, Nandorin, and Sindarin," he explained.

"Wow, that's so… weird," I said. "I always thought you guys had one language."

Legolas shook his head, but became distracted with something happening over my head. I turned around, finding Aragorn grabbing Pippin's arm.

"Do not disturb the water," the ranger ordered.

I looked at the murky lake, remembering how stagnant the water had been. Now it rippled with the disturbance of Merry and Pippin's rocks… or was it more than that? I found myself standing up, Legolas following suit.

"What is it?" Boromir asked as I picked my way towards the lake.

I stepped towards the water and Boromir joined my side, his arm brushing against my shoulder as we both inspected the water. It still rippled, and the waves lapping up on the shore looked as though they were subtly becoming more aggressive.

"I don't…" I glared at the water, trying to get a better look.

"It's a riddle!" Frodo suddenly announced, startling me. I turned around to face the door. "Speak friend, and enter!" He said, having an excitement in his eyes I hadn't seen in a couple of weeks. "Gandalf, what's the Elvish word for friend?"

"_Mellon_," the wizard answered.

The stone creaked and groaned, and I reached back again to grab Sandalphon. The door split down the middle and slowly swung open. Humid, rank air flew out of the entrance, assaulting my senses.

Gimli hustled through the entrance, followed by the Hobbits and Gandalf, then Aragorn and Legolas. I slowly followed, Boromir at my side.

"Soon, master elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves," Gimli rumbled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Legolas roll his eyes. I smiled. "Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the _bone_! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin, Balin."

We stepped into the gloom, the air turning even thicker. I felt my heart racing as Gimli went on and on about the mine.

Gandalf fiddled with his staff until the top started to glow dimly like a lantern. "Madi, your light," he suggested.

I quickly pulled out my seraph blades. "_Sandalphon_," I murmured. "_Metatron_."

Both swords burst into a harsher silverish-white light, easily illuminating the floor.

I screamed and probably (more like definitely) let out a long string of profanities just I stepped on the ribcage of an old skeleton.

I spun my swords, quickly bringing light to the rest of the mine entrance, and the rest of the bodies littering the floor. I gripped my seraphs tightly, trying to calm down while figure out what was happening. The skeletons were simply that – just bone and cobwebs – as well as rusted armor and weapons. Some had arrows lodged into their bones and axes into their skulls.

Boromir grabbed my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I pressed my face into the leather of his vest, trying to collect myself. "It's all right," he murmured. "It's all right."

I wanted to tell him how all right it _wasn't_, but I didn't have the words. Even when I looked up again, I wasn't prepared for the massacre in front of me. I'd never seen the effects of war so… _explicitly_. I didn't understand. Boromir tightened his arm around me, trying to bring me back to reality.

"This is no mine," the man told the rest of the Fellowship. "It's a tomb."

Legolas dropped to kneel in front of a skeleton. He dislodged an arrow from its shoulder. "Lady Madi, I need a light," he said.

I didn't move. I felt weighed down and distracted by the bodies surrounding us, slowly suffocating in the thick, hot air of what Boromir so adequately put as the tomb. I tried to straighten up, but couldn't. Boromir pulled me even closer to his side, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into my arm.

Legolas looked up, eyes flickering around the Fellowship until he found me. His brows furrowed in concern. "Lady Madi?"

I nodded, forcing myself away from Boromir and further into the mass of bodies, which ended up as a lurching mess. I stumbled over the bones, and crashed into Legolas's side. I practically laid on him as I tried to balance myself, and held up a shaking sword to shine light on the arrow's tip. It was narrow and black.

"Goblins," Legolas said, dropping the arrow. He grabbed my upper arm and helped me up, and I saw the whole Fellowship recoiling away from the mine, Boromir closer to the door than the others, besides Frodo.

"We should never have come here," the knight of Gondor said, desperation edging in his voice. "Let us make for the Gap of Rohan!"

I was definitely for that idea, and I found myself looking at Frodo. Movement behind him distracted me for a brief moment, but it was enough to make cold dread bloom in me like a poisonous flower, spreading through my body as a crucial detail stuck out in my mind.

I forgot the lake outside of this hellhole.

"_Frodo!_" I shouted, my voice echoing off the cavern walls. I sprung forward.

But it was too late. The Hobbit dropped to the floor, and started being dragged outside.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Next chapter, coming right up! Are we pumped? Are we?!**


	13. Releasing Krakens, Cave Trolls, and Madi

**So, my internet has been faulty these past couple of days, which is how I got so much time to finish this chapter!**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**Lily Noir:**** I realize that it does seem like she doesn't remember what's going on, but there are some clues that let you know she really hasn't. Like during the scene with the crows, she goes to grab her stuff as everyone is still staring at the crows to get it out of the way. In the last chapter, she really did forget about the Watcher of the Water because of the eerie vibe everything gave her outside of the entrance of Moria, as well as those skeletons inside. She didn't expect it all to look so rough. She blanked, and I know that monster was a **_**huge**_** thing one should not simply forget, but at the time, her priorities had been a little scattered. Madi knows these things are happening, but she honestly just wants to go with the flow of these stories, be in the moment with these characters – which is why I said this story is going to be different from the others (if you haven't read the others, in those she was more pro being ahead of everyone else). Jeez, sorry for the long comment, I get a little carried away. Thank you for your comment, I really appreciate it!**

**Random Person 94:**** What? Something's up with Legolas and Boromir? I have **_**no**_** idea what you're talking about. At all. *shuffles awkwardly away***

**Guest:**** Thank you so much! I finally have a bit of time to crank out some stories so I'm using it to my advantage. This is actually the latest installment in a series, and there are seven other stories! You can really tell how much I sucked as a writer when I first started haha. I may go back and edit them after this story.**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Ready to Go**_** ~ Panic! at the Disco**

_**Eat You Alive**_** ~ The Oh Hello's**

_**Can't Stop**_** ~ Red Hot Chili Peppers**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**13. Releasing Krakens, Cave Trolls, and Madi**

"_Madi_!"

I charged out of the entrance of Moria, straight for Frodo. He was being pulled by a long, sinuous tentacle. It was slimy, covered with a strange, filmy layer of grime and had an extraordinary grip on my ward.

The lake outside bubbled and boiled with controlled fury, but I knew whatever was in there was ready to blow.

"_Madi!_" Frodo screamed as he was dragged across the pebbly bank. He shrieked when his feet touched the water.

I struck forward, my swords making clean cuts through the monster's slippery limb. "_Run!_" I shouted at Frodo as he struggled with the piece of monster stuck to his ankle. I leapt in front of him. "Get back into the mine –!"

A heavy, fishy smelling weight slammed into my side, dropping me face-first into the shallow water. I spat out putrid, salty-tasting water, and looked up just as the lake exploded with twenty of those tentacles, one of them shooting straight for me.

I gripped my swords, and they shined brightly at the challenge. I rolled over on my shoulders and rocked back into an immediate windmill –

Something cold and heavy coiled around my ankle, stopping me short from standing up. I shot out with Sandalphon, severing off another tentacle. I twisted out of the way of another blind, writhing limb, and spun my seraphs to cut it off. Another tentacle shot past me, and I spun around to see it go for Frodo again.

"_No!_" I snarled, but the monster was quicker, and jerked Frodo into the water before I could even stop it.

I dove into the water, catching the beast as it still had Frodo in the shallows, hacking against muscle and flexible rubber wrapped around his legs. A muted, keening, vibrating wail shot through the water, creating ripples that gently buffeted against my legs.

Frodo stared at me in horror, and my eyes must've mirrored his. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Boromir charging into the water, and I moved one of my swords into one hand, shoving the Hobbit for the knight.

I then felt something wrap around both of my legs.

"Oh god_dammit_ –!" I screamed, sucking in a sharp breath just before the monster could sweep me off my feet, and drag me into the lake's depths.

Darkness surrounded me, my swords' harsh light only lighting up a small section of the lake. From what I could see, massive tentacles shot past me towards the surface of the water, growing thicker as I realized I was reaching the body. My lungs burned as cold water cut into them, and felt like they were being crushed under the water's surface. I tried to swipe out at the tentacle pulling me further under, but my movements were sluggish and restricted under the water.

Then my swords illuminated a massive grayish-green mass stirring under the water. Huge, alien black orbs opened and focused on me. The thing looked ancient and hollowed out, like the top half of a human skull. Its eyes held an emotion I didn't need a translation for. Hunger.

It rolled back, exposing a mouth of razor sharp teeth ready to clamp down on me. I tried to struggle away, but with a huge animal weighing you down, you don't get very far. Like an idiot, I screamed, letting foul black water enter my lungs. I shut my mouth immediately, but the damage had been done. My lungs screamed for air in a place that didn't have enough.

So, as the monster pulled me into its mouth, a circular cavern filled with pointed teeth lining what looked like the whole trip down. Panic gripped me hard and fast, a desperation to get out made me thrash wildly. I struck out both blades, right above the monster's mouth.

Another (extremely) loud scream rocked through my system and vibrated in the water. The hold around my leg loosened, and I struck into a higher part of the head with Metatron. I felt the monster wriggling around me, its tentacles brushing through the water trying to brush me off, their wakes buffeting me, my lungs burning. I stabbed up the monster's head, keeping low to its skin as I climbed to the top of its slimy head. I broke easily through the hard cartilage that was its skull, and it let out streams of murky black blood that felt icy cold against my skin.

With another enraged, ear-shattering and chest-concaving snarl, I felt the thing shoot up out of the water. I held onto my seraph blades for dear life as I felt cold, thin air. I could have sobbed in relief as I gasped for air, letting out an unimpressive scream just to show this monster what I was made of. The tentacles writhed around me, and I pushed my swords further into its head and twisted them. The octopus-monster shuddered and let out another breathy-unearthly scream. My heart felt like it was working overtime just to keep up with the situation.

"Someone help her!" I heard someone shout on the shore. "_Legolas_!"

An arrow made of light colored wood and a light gray tip lodged itself into the monster's head, right between its eyes. The monster cried out again and surged forward, seeming to forget about me as it threw its tentacles forward.

"Watch _out_!" I screamed just as I tumbled down the creature's front, my swords falling with me. I shot forward, rolling around in the water as I struggled for the shallows, hearing snapping noises not too far behind. People shouted my name, but I was too focused on looking behind me, swiping at the monster's snapping jaws that tried to find purchase on my leg.

I ran towards the voices, putting my burning lungs to the test as I made an all-out sprint to the mines. Tentacles flew over my head, going straight for the door's opening.

"_Into the mines_!" Gandalf bellowed, but I was already two steps ahead of him, racing into the mines with the rest of the Fellowship. I found the Hobbits, unguarded and as stock-still as sheep in the face of panic, lost and unsure. I rolled to a stop in front of them, scraping my cheek on a jagged rock, and held my swords out in an 'x' in front of them, facing the monster's tentacles pulling the entrance in on itself as the rest of the Fellowship made it to safety.

The rocks caved down on us, the noise of the avalanche almost deafening. I barely heard it, too keyed up to care about anything except immediate danger.

Everything was cast into darkness, except for the brightness of my swords. Gandalf quickly lit his staff's light, allowing me to drop to my hands and knees as I coughed out the remaining water in my system.

"Madi!" Boromir gasped as he dropped down to my side, pounding my back in a way that didn't help at all. My body felt like a livewire, and it was taking everything I could not to hack his arm off next.

I waited for the price for what I'd done to be collected. I dealt with that super-adrenaline stuff, I knew I had. I had been on top of the world, and now I had to wait for my burning lungs to churn and break and for me to start puking up blood. It's just how these things happen.

But it didn't happen. I waited for a few, experimental minutes, and I still felt perfectly fine. Well, I mean, my body was exhausted, bruised and a little waterlogged – but compared to the usual agony? Totally great. Maybe that was a perk of dying?

"I'm fine," I wheezed, even though I got doubtful looks from Aragorn, Gimli, Boromir, and Legolas, concern from Gandalf, and fearful ones from the Hobbits. "I'm fine. Just… just water. That's all."

Just water. I only had to puke up water. No blood. No metallic taste in my mouth. Just gross, filmy water.

A short, stocky figure whose head stopped at my shoulder helped me up to my feet. Gimli let me have enough room to stow my swords, but when I did, he stepped in front of me again. He set me to stand straighter, dusting off some of the lake-grime that stuck to my coat. He had a stern set of the face as his bushy eyebrows drew over his small eyes, and a firmness of mouth that showed a resolute decision coming from him.

"I fear I have misjudged you, Miss Verdantia," Gimli announced. He clapped my upper arm, hard, and gripped it with a strength that pulled me back from my half-drowned, half-stupified daze.

Not having enough strength to do much else, I gripped his hand on my arm with my free hand. "Happy you have, master dwarf," I said.

He gave a dark chuckle, one you give when something badass happens, and made his way towards the Hobbits, settling them from the ordeal. I felt another hand – a larger one – rest between the space of my shoulders. I glanced around and found Boromir smiling at me in the dim light. I smiled back.

"We must be on our guard," Gandalf informed us, his voice subdued in the dark. "It is a four day journey out to the other side, and there are more than just Orcs in the deep places of the world."

"Well, let's go then," I said, pulling my soaked hood up over my face. "We can take 'em."

_**.M.I.W.**_

Moria was dark and humid and soul-breakingly sinister. Bones of slain dwarves littered the ruins, graffiti had been slathered on the walls in their blood. The place smelled rotted and old, like the outside of the mines: dead or dying. We were repressed and trapped, the only light coming from Gandalf's staff at the front of the group, and my seraphs near the back. No one was doing fine in the literal sense of the word.

The Hobbits seemed unable to cope in the blackness, which was understandable, but they were as lost as rabbits in a cage. Aragorn and Boromir were on edge the entire time, stopping the company at the slightest of sounds. Gimli seemed struck with grief – what he said to me had been the last of his good nature. Legolas had closed in on himself, hardly saying a word even when I tried to talk to him. During the long treks silence would reign throughout the Fellowship, so I decided to take in some scenery (well, as much as I could get) from the ravaged caves and nervously narrow staircases, which is how I noticed all of the Orc-graffiti and dwarf-bones.

We settled on places to sleep that were out of sight from any enemy eyes, but after the first night, I decided it was better not to sleep at all. I took watch each night since, despite the Fellowship's protests. Those fights never lasted long, since they were all so tired and I was on too heavy of an emotional lockdown to notice how I was doing. I felt like a robot passing through the mines, taking mental images of the horrors, hardly eating or drinking or sleeping.

Mainly, I spent our walking time thinking about the impending fight scene with the Orcs, troll, and Balrog. That kraken-beast-thing in the lake caught me off guard – seeing a bunch of dead bodies at one time can do that. Now I felt in control, or as in control as I could get spending two days trekking across darkness and filth.

As the third day rolled in, and we had no idea if we were any closer or farther from our escape, Gandalf suddenly stopped, bringing everyone up short. "I have no memory of this place…" he murmured, most likely to himself.

But I heard it, and I certainly knew Legolas did. He looked entirely taken aback by the wizard's announcement, but retained composure in an instant. We ended up meeting eyes, and I made a show of sighing. He looked away, but I saw a slight smile on his face.

_**.M.I.W.**_

Half an hour passed with everyone sitting on the cold stone floor as Gandalf stared at the three cave mouths that would either lead us to our salvation or our doom. Frodo sat near him, and the two started speaking in hushed tones.

I leaned against a rock, close to, but not touching Boromir. The knight had gone into a light sleep, and I didn't want to wake him up by moving away. Legolas sat on my other side, a polite distance away, near Aragorn and Gimli. Gimli started smoking his pipe, and I felt the urge to ask for a drag.

Pippin, Merry and Sam sat right in the middle of the trail, too tired to move to the sides. We let them be, deciding we were safe for the moment, and if there was a sign of trouble we could pull them away with ease.

Pippin shifted nervously. "Are we lost?" He asked.

"No," Merry answered immediately. "I don't think we are. Now hush, Gandalf's thinking."

"Oh."

A few moments of silence.

"Merry?"

"Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

We were all hungry. I knew I was, thinking about it. I felt like I hadn't eaten in days, besides the puny supply of black traveling bread you had to gnaw on to get any sustenance from. I didn't count that as food. I tried not to think about it too hard, focusing on the rocks my swords lit up. A few minutes passed like that in perfect silence.

"Madi?"

I looked at Pippin, who started making his way closer to me. "Yeah, Pippin?" I replied, hoping against all hope he wouldn't tell me how hungry he was.

"You promised you would tell us stories about your exploits and adventures," he said, his small voice ringing out against the hallow chambers of the mines. "Can you tell us a story?"

Oh.

Okay.

"Sure," I said. "What do you want to hear?"

Pippin shrugged, and I decided to wing it.

"I know one," I said. "It's about a selfish wizard who sold his soul to a fallen star, and falls in love with a girl with red hair."

The Hobbits looked intrigued by this, so I told them the story of _Howl's Moving Castle_, with a few minor details left out, of course.

The day passed on like that. Pippin would pester me about more stories to tell, as if it would fill up the darkness of the mines. I went through all I knew, starting with _Howl's Moving Castle_, then _Watership Down_, every Disney movie ever – even _Twilight_ got a short round when Sam asked for a love story (hey, I was tired, and it was the first thing I could think of). I tried anything and everything lighthearted, and the Hobbits seemed to suck up every story I had to tell them.

By the time we settled in for the night, the Hobbits seemed more content than they had been in a while. My voice had worn out from all of the talking, and when I was sure they were asleep, I took up my post as the night watch, sitting on a rock not too far away from the Fellowship.

"You should rest," A deep voice informed me. I turned around as Gandalf came to sit near me, lighting his pipe. "We have much ground to cover tomorrow."

Yeah, and lots of fighting too. I thought about sleeping, but at the same time, I felt way too wired to try. Everything in this mine set off a nervous energy in me. I don't know if I was picking up off of Aragorn and Boromir's paranoia or –

"Something troubles you?" The wizard asked, breaking my train of thought.

"Yes," I blurted out. "This whole… this whole thing isn't like anything I've dealt with before. I can't focus like I have before."

He took a careful puff of his pipe, not saying anything. It was like an invitation to continue.

"Everything was straightforward," I went on, rubbing my dry, itching eyes. "I wasn't distracted, I didn't feel anything. But here, it's different. I _feel_ things. Like, outside the entrance, I felt everything dying around me. I should have kept a more careful eye on the water, I knew something was in there, but instead I got carried away with this overwhelming feeling of things… _dying_. On the Pass of Caradhras, when you said that spell, I _felt it_. And then whenever Frodo pulls out that ring, I feel…"

I noticed Gandalf staring at me rather intently, gaze incredibly serious. I realized I'd have to pick my words carefully, or else he would think I wanted to steal the ring for myself, and probably kill me. Crap, why do I always have to talk?

"I feel its power," I said. "I realize what it's capable of. I know it as soon as I lay eyes on it – like a dark force just presses down on me, and I _can't ignore it_. I would never hurt Frodo, I promised to protect him with my life, and I wouldn't _ever_ consider going after the ring – that thing is just trouble waiting to happen. But it doesn't… why is everything effecting me so much? It's distracting. Every time I encounter something I _feel_ it first, and it throws me off guard."

Gandalf's breathing was steady as he puffed on his pipe. Strange smelling smoke – not like tobacco or weed – curled up in the air like a snake until it disappeared into the darkness.

"I'm not a threat," I said. "You have to believe me."

"Of course you're not," he answered. "Lady Madison, what you can do should not be considered a distraction. Very few mortals are gifted with a sensitivity to magic. But then again, you do not exactly have the same limits of a mortal, so it should not be surprising that you, as you say, _feel things_."

I grimaced, not exactly liking the sound of that. "Sensitive to magic? That sounds more like a problem than a gift."

"On the contrary," Gandalf replied. "Consider it a heightened instinct, like you do with your physical abilities. Elves are much the same. I believe you would find more understanding from them than your mortal companions."

I didn't say anything else, a little more or less unenthused about Gandalf's theory. I also ended up totally passing out that night, catching the tail end of Gandalf's muttering as soon as a weird (but now familiar) tingling sensation spread through my spine. Yeah, sensitive to magic didn't exactly mean I could stop it when he hit me with a sleeping spell.

_**.M.I.W.**_

We were really trying to make it to the exit by the middle of the fourth day. There were no stories, since Aragorn was sure something lurked about and it might overhear us. Only our footsteps echoed across the empty caverns.

Moria opened up from its broken passageways and into a colossal room teaming with giant stone pillars to hold up the ceiling. At one point, they had been decorated, but were now faded with ruin. Gimli stopped at two rotted wooden doors, propped open to reveal a brightly lit room. The light came from a narrow shaft in the wall, but it gave enough light for me to stow my seraphs.

What lay inside caught the men off guard.

A giant slab of stone sat in the center with a series of runes etched on it. The light shined on it in a cold manner, making the room feel as though it were empty and sterile. Skeletons of dwarves dotted the area, one near the stone slab had a book gripped in its fingers.

"Oh no!" Gimli cried, dropping to his knees at the stone slab. "No, _no_!"

He chanted the same word over and over again. _No, no, no, no._ It was enough to cut right through me, along with the tears running down the dwarf's face. I frowned at the grave, and I placed my hand on his shoulder and gripped it. Gimli didn't show a sign that he knew I touched him, and didn't shake me off. He was too focused on the stone in front of him, reaching out to touch it, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Gandalf leaned over the runes, and frowned. "'_Here lies Balin, son of Fudin, Lord of Moria_.' He is dead then, just as I feared."

I watched Gandalf pick up the worn book in the skeleton's hands. It was decorated with slash marks, stab wounds, and splashes of blood. He opened it, the spine breaking under his gentle hands. Dust puffed up from its opening, and I watched the wizard peruse the pages.

I saw Legolas shift near me. "We must move on, Aragorn. We cannot linger."

I waited until the elf looked at me, and gave him a silent 'what the fuck' expression. Didn't he see Gimli was grieving? We had enough time, just as long as –

_CRASH! _

_THUMP!_

_THUmp! _

_THump, thump…_

Okay… maybe we didn't have as much time as I thought.

I looked up, finding Pippin near the well in the room, looking utterly frightened and abashed at the same time. Gandalf whirled on him first.

"Fool of a Took!" He thundered. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

I frowned when Pippin's eyes watered, but didn't say anything. Gimli straightened up, and I walked away, joining Boromir's side as he, Aragorn, and Legolas watched the doors. We were all incredibly quiet, waiting for the next shoe to drop. And it did.

_Boom._

The beat of the drum hit me deep below my ribcage and shook me upwards. The sound was low, lower than any setting I'd heard used on a rap song, and felt more jarring than holding onto a jackhammer. The Hobbits scrambled near the back of the room as another beat sounded. A sharp horn blared through the mines, followed by another in answer. Then I heard one bloodthirsty cry.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam shouted, but I didn't need to turn around to see his blade went blue.

"Orcs!" Legolas called out.

"Go back!" Aragorn ordered the Hobbits. "Stay behind Gandalf!"

Aragorn and Boromir slammed the doors shut, wedging huge beams of wood to block them from the attack forming outside. Legolas helped find axes and other weapons hold the doors fast, while Gandalf threw his hat on the ground not too far away. I heard a strange zinging noise slice through the air, coming closer to the tomb –

"Boromir!" I shouted, and the knight pulled his head back just before a black Orc arrow could pierce his skull. He glanced back and nodded at me, then turned to the rest of the Fellowship.

"They have a cave troll," he announced in a half-joking, half-desperate manner.

I whipped out my swords, twirling them in my hands. They started to glow as I sashayed to the towards the group, and Aragorn held up a hand to keep me back. Gimli leapt onto the tombstone beside me, brandishing a couple of axes.

"Oh, let them come!" He snarled. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws _breath_!"

And if that's not enough to get you pumped for a fight, I don't know what is.

Legolas and Aragorn had their bows drawn at the ready. I stood behind Aragorn, watching the ranger develop a steely focus. He shifted his weight in what I knew had to be anticipation. I flipped Sandalphon, trying to get into a comfortable position that wouldn't lock me up. What I really wanted to do was just break for the door and kick some ass.

_BANG!_

They slammed on the door, trying to break through the wood and its blockades. I almost jumped forward, and stopped myself, letting out a short breath when they didn't break through.

_BANG!_

A spear jammed through the door, breaking some of the wood in the process, making me suck in a sharp breath. It prodded into the space of our room, and Legolas let his first arrow fly, hitting the Orc dead on. We heard a squeal of pain and a thump, letting us know it died. All right, one down, a billion more to go.

Aragorn fired next, then Legolas again. I felt my muscles coil in excitement, wanting nothing more than to just get out there and _fight_. This was what I was here for, after all.

Then the doors broke open, and a stream of Orcs poured in.

Orcs. Ugly, disgusting creatures with ragged blackish skin and sickly yellow eyes with teeth that seemed to be shattered into jagged fangs. They looked more animal than human, especially with their strange, yodeling barks and snorts. They brandished huge, rusted swords and chipped spears, wearing the odds and ends of armor that once belonged to their enemies. Adrenaline snaked up my spine, and I smiled.

Aragorn and Legolas landed a few more hits, but it wasn't that long until they were upon us.

I surged forward to meet one head-on. It snarled in delight, and I smiled. I dodged under its sword, and stabbed for the stomach, pulling away to face the next target. I struck low at another Orc's legs. It crumpled to its knees and I slit its throat.

It was all a melee of action. The sounds of metal clanking against metal, ripping flesh, battle cries from the Hobbits, snarls from the Orcs permeated the air. I went straight for my next mark, an Orc edging a little too close to Pippin, hitting hard and fast at the throat just as another one came at me with a spear pointed straight for my head.

I threw up my swords in an 'x,' trapping the spear between my blades. It howled in anger as I pushed to the inside, pulling Sandalphon away to shoot my sword right through the neck. The Orc made a gurgling noise and tipped backwards, taking me with it. I landed on a knee on its chest.

Shit.

First rule in a fight: never fall to the ground.

A wild squealing sound forced me to roll over and throw my swords up in an 'x' again, just before a sword could chop down on my chest. The Orc made a weird wheezing-chuckling noise, similar to the chuffs of a hyena. My eyes widened, and it forced its weight down.

The sword slid between my seraph blades straight towards my face, and I quickly put my arms up over my head. The swords scraped the ground and collapsed, bringing the Orc down on top of me. I pulled Metatron back and stabbed into its chest, making the monster scream in agony and drop on me. It knocked the air out of my lungs, and when I tried to breath, a sick, rotting smell hit my nose, making me gag. It still choked and gagged and let out hoarse shrieks, then bit the side of my neck.

I screamed in surprise and pain, immediately stabbing at its side with Sandalphon. The Orc howled as I rolled him off of me, pulling myself to my feet just in time to be met with another.

"Have at thee, _motherfucker_!" I shouted, and started running for it. The Orc gave a startled squeal and tried to back off, but I chopped off its head, my swords swinging around to slash at another Orc's chest.

Then I saw Boromir fighting two at once, fending off one with his shield while the other was at the end of his sword. I charged to him, stabbing the Orc on his shield to the ground. I looked up just as another one came at me, and started to pull away, until a huge broadsword shot through its neck. It convulsed and gasped, then crumpled to the floor next to me.

I jumped up, turning around to find Boromir. I grinned at him, feeling a chunk of my hair fall out of my ponytail and frame the side of my face. The knight of Gondor watched me with worry, placing his hand on the side of my neck, covering the bite wound. "Lady Madi –"

He never finished his sentence.

Loud, thick rattling chains echoed throughout the small room, and I looked back to the door, finding a massive creature burst into the room. It had gray, elephant-like skin, with small yellow eyes. Chains and shackles decorated its body, and some of the Orcs took to crowing in delight. It let out a loud roar that sounded like the mix between a boar and a lion.

"Holy shit –" I started off, but quickly dispatched another Orc. "Is that a –"

"Yes," Boromir answered gravely.

Legolas let an arrow loose, hitting the monster between its neck and shoulder. The cave troll grabbed at the arrow embedded in its skin, then looked up again and let out another snarl. It charged into the room.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Yay! A (kinda) fight-scene sandwich! **

**Man, dealing with the Watcher of the Water (the kraken-beast) was crazy, huh? To be honest, I actually scared myself a little when writing it. Don't know why, I guess the whole idea of being in the dark, underwater, and fighting things you can't really get the scale of just freaked me out. What'd you guys think about it?**

**Comment and let me know! I'll give you virtual cookies and a shirtless Fellowship member of your choice if you do!**


	14. You Shall Not Pass

**I wrote part of this chapter in my mom's office. Free desk and free food? How could I pass up an opportunity like this?**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**xXChaoticOrderXx:**** If you want a shirtless Haldir, you will have one! Estimated shipping time varies between ten to fourteen days. Glad you enjoyed the fight scene with the Watcher! And Boromadi, **_**what**_**? Psh! :P**

**Same (Awesome) Guest:**** I added another part to your name. Oh man, I'm so happy you enjoyed the Watcher scene! And I'm excited you're reading the other stories. Let me know what you think of them? With Boromir, there was this quotation I read about how "Boromir was portrayed as men are, and Aragorn as men must be," (no idea who said it, but props to them) and I guess I can agree with that at some points, but Boromir always strove to be better, and he did have redeeming qualities. He trained Merry and Pippin, died protecting them, and deeply regretted going after Frodo for the ring. I mean, the ring is supposed to be manipulative, and Boromir had a lot of weakness, but I feel like a lot of them were out of his control. I mean, can you imagine him dealing with his dad? Sorry for the long response, just… Boromir feels, though.**

**thecrownlessagainshallbeking:**** I don't quite recall your name (I'd remember it, it's pretty cool), but welcome regardless! First of all, thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying it! And… I don't know what you mean with Boromir. Nope. Not at all. Also, Madi's never been able to time travel, but she's going to meet someone very soon who can. Hope you like this chapter!**

**trollalalala:**** That totally counts as a comment, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy this fight scene!**

**Random Person 94:**** I don't know if the bite will give her anything, I mean, yeah, where **_**has**_** that mouth been? Even Madi doesn't know why the side-effects from kicking some kraken-ass didn't take over, she thinks it's because she died, and got brought back to life.**

**Kyoki no Megami:**** Uh… thank you? Sorry for the typos, I'm trying to write chapters, edit, and then post them as fast as I can because I usually don't have time to post at all. And Madi can't really do a lot to change anything, since that would ruin the plot of the story, so I understand how it seems like she's clueless. Can't win 'em all, I guess.**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Dance Apocalyptic**_** ~ Janelle Monaé**

_**My Songs Know What You did in the Dark**_** ~ Fall Out Boy**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**14. You Shall Not Pass**

The cave troll was huge, clawing at anyone or anything in sight. It drug along a huge hammer behind it, sending Orcs sprawling whenever it didn't land a hit on anyone in the Fellowship.

An Orc came straight for me. I swept forward and clipped its side, letting Boromir follow through and decapitate it. I heard the sound of a Hobbit screaming, and looked up just as the cave troll cornered Sam, and tried to squish him under its massive foot.

"_Sam_!" I shouted, diving forward.

Aragorn looked up in time, and grabbed one of the chains used to guide the beast. He jerked it back, reeling the monster away. I rolled underneath the troll's legs, reaching out to defend Sam, but the troll already started for Aragorn.

One Orc scrambled towards us, licking its vicious teeth with a black, leathery tongue. He spat on my seraph blades, and a sneer curled the corners of his mouth.

I was taken aback.

I paused, straightening up from my battle position to look at my blades. Dark green saliva mixed with black Orc blood and dripped down my blades like they were water proof. Their light pulsed from bright to brighter. I then looked back up at the goblin, arching an eyebrow.

"Did you just _spit_ on my swords?" I demanded.

The sneer started to fall.

I looked back at Sam, whose eyes were wide and frightened when he looked up at me. "Did he?"

Despite all the chaos rolling around us, Sam quirked a smile. "I think he did, Lady Madi."

"Yeah," I replied, focusing on the Orc again. "I think so too."

I started in on him, throwing out Metatron to defend the slash of his rusted sword and knock it out of the way. I stabbed into him with Sandalphon, twisting the blade and joining it with Metatron. The Orc let out a squeal of anguish, and I pulled out my swords and chopped off its head.

I glanced at Sam, flipping my swords the way I would for the kids in Ingary who used to call me the Light Fighter. "It's that easy," I told Sam.

He grinned at me and nodded, then went after Orcs with a renewed vigor.

I found the cave troll lumbering towards Aragorn, swinging its massive club about wildly, content with hitting anything that moved. He probably needed some assistance.

I raced for him, slinging my swords across another Orc's neck, and looked up just as Boromir got struck by the cave troll's club.

"No!" I shouted, just as the knight went sailing through the air, and crashed into a wall. I ran for him –

_THUD!_

An Orc toppled me over right next to the stone tomb, and I slammed into the hard dusty ground. I let out a guttural shout as it scrambled over me, the spikes of its armor poking into my arms and stomach and legs as it reached for its weapon.

"Dude, I'm flattered, really," I growled as I grabbed for my own swords. "But, really, can I get a hell no?"

I wriggled under its heavy stinking flesh, trying to get into a good position to stab it. The Orc made loud snorting noises, scratched the leathers against my arms –

_Slink._

A metallic noise grated across the stone floor, and the Orc seemed to go even more ballistic. Oh God, it found a blade. I pushed harder against it, realizing how trapped I was. I went incredibly quiet as the Orc reared up with a rusty dirk in hand. It had my upper body pinned down, and I _couldn't move_.

_CRASH!_

I looked over just as the cave troll slammed its hammer into Balin's tomb as it tried to hit Gimli. A chunk of stone flew towards the Orc, landing heavily against its head. The Orc screeched in surprise and pain and faltered as it tipped to the side, giving me enough leverage to wrench Sandalphon out and into the Orc's chest. It dropped to the side, and I pulled myself up –

Only to be face-to-snout with a huge cave troll.

It puffed heavy breaths into my face, each one smelling fouler than the last. A mixture of saliva and blood dripped out of its mouth, and I found my body freezing in surprise.

"Well, now I'm at a loss for words," I finally said. "How did you _not_ get the part for Thor?"

The cave troll roared at me, a nasty boarish-bearish sound, which made me realize I probably should start moving.

Two black arrows cut right into the beast's neck. It startled and pulled back, and I shot forward, landing a clean cut with both of my swords against its stomach. The troll howled in rage as I skidded between its tree-trunk legs and to the other side, sinking my blades into the neck of an Orc who lost balance.

It gave me time to look up and see something completely crazy.

The cave troll got smart, using its chain to whip against the higher ledges of the tomb, trying to strike down a tall, blond figure. Legolas jerked back from the chain's first hit, then looked up, an electric gleam in his eyes.

The troll struck again and again, missing the nimble elf as he dodged behind stone pillars. The troll let out an enraged snarl, and struck out again, this time wrapping the chain around a pillar.

Oh my God, Legolas was about to do the thing.

An Orc tried to bowl me over again, but I was far too gone to even try combat, letting the beast come to me so I could close-line it with my sword. I decapitated it with ease, my focus barely leaving Legolas's form.

The elf shot up the chain like a rat on a wire, gripping the troll's collar so he could get into a more stable position. He stood on the creature's shoulders, finding some sense of balance, and strung two arrows back. He fired right into the troll's head.

Of course, the arrow splintered and didn't penetrate the troll's armored head. Legolas dropped off of the troll's shoulders with the deftness of a cat, rising to his feet just in time to see me staring at him in total awe.

I grinned at him, and he sent me a smirk in return before shooting back into the fray.

"_Frodo_!" Aragorn called, his voice ringing out over the chaos of battle. I jerked around as if pulled on a string, focusing on Frodo hiding behind a pillar, staying out of the cave troll's sight.

I ran for him, finding Boromir hacking up Orcs close by like he was chopping vegetables for dinner. Just as he dispatched the closest one, I grabbed the sleeve of his tunic.

"Mind giving me a boost?" I asked, nodding to the troll.

Frodo suddenly screamed, and I looked up just as the beast had him pinned.

Boromir and I charged, stopping just behind the troll. It was too preoccupied to notice us, hefting its hammer like it was about to use it. I sheathed my swords just as Boromir dropped his shield and clasped his hands together, palms up. I stepped into them, and he hefted me up, giving me magnificent air. I clawed a grip onto the troll's scaly shoulders, making the creature give a howl of surprise. It reeled back, giving me enough leverage to climb up onto its neck and wrap my legs as best I could around it. I then pulled out Metatron, and swept out, tearing a fine line into its throat.

The troll bellowed again, reaching up to swat me off. A heavy weight slammed into my back, knocking the wind out of me, and clutched around my torso. I didn't even have a chance to scream as it threw me across the room like I was a rag doll.

I slammed into the ground, knocking my head against Balin's tomb.

_SLAM!_

The vibrating earth, something akin to a miniature earthquake, startled me awake. A huge, gray spinning mottled mess greeted me, as well as the sounds of someone shouting. I blinked past it, shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, and found the mess configured into the shape of a dead cave troll lying to my right. Dark blood pooled out on the floor around its neck, where a light colored arrow stuck out. I frowned, squinting to get a better look –

"Madi? Madi!"

Warm hands brushed against my shoulders and arms, and I looked to the left, finding a strawberry blond grinning down at me. His dark green eyes, though tired, shone in relief, and a small smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

"I swear," I mumbled, "I _thought_ it was a good idea."

Boromir chuckled warmly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me to sit up, letting me lean against him. I struggled to wake up, knowing how much we still had to do, forcing myself to sit up on my own –

"Frodo!" Aragorn hissed, his voice echoing across the empty chamber.

I tried to pull myself up, but my head thrummed in agony, making tears prick at my eyes. Boromir tightened his hold on me, and through all the minor cuts and aches, it felt pretty good.

But Frodo wasn't pretty good, and that mattered a little bit more than Boromir at the moment.

I pulled myself up to my feet, my legs unsteady and my stomach swirling. I felt like I had a concussion. Great, third fight out and I already had my first major injury? Not cool. Not cool.

My legs began to give out on me, and I leaned against Boromir, who still knelt on the ground. He let me, not saying a word, as he focused on Aragorn rolling Frodo onto his back.

For a split-second, the Hobbit looked dead. Fear and dread hit me hard and fast before anything else, and I gripped Boromir's shoulder for support. The knight reached up and held my hand to him, squeezing it with his much larger one.

A sharp, wheezing gasp cut through the thick silence, bringing a startled laugh out of Gandalf. I heard a relieved cry (which I later realized was me) as I lurched forward. I ended up losing balance, and let myself drop down on my knees, not even caring about the pain shooting through my legs at the impact. I shoved my fingers through my disheveled hair and pressed them into my scalp, trying to focus on a moment of clarity. I didn't get him killed. He was all right.

Boromir came up beside me, resting gentle hands on my shoulders as he whispered things my hearing was too muddled to register.

"I'm… I'm all right," Frodo said as I watched him pull himself up. "I'm not hurt."

Not hurt. He was all right.

Aragorn pulled away from Frodo as though he were diseased. "You should be dead," he said. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar!"

"I believe there's more to this than what meets the eye," Gandalf interceded, shuffling up to Frodo.

The Hobbit slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled it aside to reveal pearly, shining chest armor. Realization hit me immediately. Of course he wasn't dead, he was wearing –

"Mithril," Gimli exclaimed. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

The deep drums echoed through the Mines of Moria once more. I straightened myself up, using Boromir's arm to stay upright. The dizziness started subsiding, but my head still ached. I could fight through that, though, easy. I had this. I totally had this.

I reached down to pick up Metatron, and sheathed him. I gently pulled my hair out of its ponytail and redid it. Having my hair fully out of my face cleared a few things up a bit, and I looked at Gandalf.

"We must make for the bridge of Khazad-dum," he ordered.

_**.M.I.W.**_

We tore through the pitch black caverns of Moria once again, my swords and Gandalf's staff lighting the way. The screeches, yips, and howls of Orcs proved they were hot on our trail, and everyone seemed gravely determined to get out of this alive.

I, on the other hand, was practically vibrating in excitement. I could hardly contain myself! This was what I was here for! Middle Earth, kicking ass, taking names, slaying a Balrog! My life was coming full circle! This was the best decision I'd ever made in my life –

"Something amusing you, Miss Verdantia?" Legolas asked as he kept pace beside me.

I tried to hide the smile on my face. "Um… No, of course not –"

An Orc tried to fight through our small patrol, and I quickly cut it off with a smart flick of my swords. I pointed my swords towards the darkness beside us, finding an army _swarming_ around us and above us, their creepy dark forms crawling across the ceiling. How the hell could they do that?

Then they closed in around us.

I was too distracted by the way these Orcs were moving to even realize it, and I skidded to a stop a little too late, slamming right into Legolas. My head jarred at the impact, buzzing through my ears as the elf forced me still. I whirled on the Orcs, finding us completely isolated in a sea of evil, yellow-eyed demons.

The Fellowship made quick work of forcing the Hobbits inside of a defensive circle, and squeezed me right between Legolas and Gimli. The dwarf barred his axes in front of him with a throaty snarl, while Legolas looked on with an icy calm expression on his face. An Orc a few feet away and closing in barked at me, while I glared at it.

"All right, you take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right, and I'll shoot straight down the middle," I said, flipping my swords. The dwarf and elf didn't say a word to acknowledge me, but when I glanced at Gimli, I saw determination in his eyes that hadn't been there a few seconds before.

The things chortled and whinnied in our faces, and I wanted to swipe out hard and fast just to get the suspense _over with_.

And then it happened.

A low, barreling, deep, deafening roar seemed to rise up out of the ground. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as powerful fiery sparks licked up and down my back as excitement unfurled in my stomach and stretched outward, making me want to shoot through the mess of Orcs and find whatever made that noise.

The silence that followed that roar was deafening.

The Orcs then started making confused, chattering noises as low growling continued. I gripped my swords tighter, and saw bright, orange flickering lights dancing at the end of the huge hall we'd just raced down.

Another roar rolled down the hall, turning the confused chatter into cries of panic. The Orcs scattered like they were cockroaches and someone turned a light on, sprinting back into the darkness or crawling up the pillars. Gimli, confused, watched the scene with thick eyebrows drawn almost over his eyes.

The light at the end of the hall grew brighter, and a tremendous snarl accompanied it. "What's all this then?" The dwarf demanded.

Legloas strung an arrow to his bow and set it for the end of the hall, and I jumped right up at his side, holding my swords steady.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir asked, breaking the silence in a low voice. I glanced back to see him close to Gandalf, his question hanging in the air as the snarling continued.

Gandalf closed his eyes and bowed his head, as if in great sorrow.

"A demon," I answered. All heads of the Fellowship (save for Gandalf's) turned to me as if yanked by a string. I looked nervously between them all, then back down the hall. "You asked me what I've fought before. This… this is it."

A broken growl echoed through Moria, hitting me deep in my bones. The light grew brighter and longer as it started to stretch down the hall, bringing a dry, stiff breeze with it.

"The Balrog. It is of the ancient world," Gandalf said, his voice just as low and grave as the Balrog's growl. "This foe is beyond any of you, even master hunters such as yourself, Miss Verdantia. _Run_!"

The Fellowship turned tail and ran. I spared one last look at the end of the hall, seeing it grow brighter and brighter, but ended up turning around and following everyone else.

We passed through a narrow doorway, Gandalf waiting by its entrance to make sure everyone made it through. I skidded to a stop, my boots sliding on the dusty ground just as Aragorn made it through. I stopped in front of Gandalf, peering up at him experimentally.

"How do you know I'm a hunter?" I shouted above the Balrog's snarls. More hot air buffeted past us, causing me to break a sweat. The wizard looked down at me with an ancient weariness in his eyes, looking both physically and mentally worn. I gripped my swords tighter. "Answer me!"

"Gandalf! Madi!" Aragorn called, stepping between us. His slate gray eyes flickered between us, brows drawing together in concern.

"Lead them on, Aragorn," Gandalf commanded, his leathery voice cracking under strain. "The bridge is near."

Aragorn took a step closer to us, but Gandalf grabbed his arm and shoved him away roughly. "Do as I say!" He ordered, stumbling down the steps. "Swords are of no more use here."

I followed Gandalf down some of the steps, but followed Legolas's lead in flipping over the flight in order to scout ahead. I realized I would never get an answer from Gandalf the Gray, and soldiered on.

We started running down a spiraling, steep stone staircase. There weren't any handrails, and the rock felt like it would crumble underneath us any second. I tried not to look down as my stomach leapt around in furious flips.

Then I noticed the huge chunk that got taken out of the stairway, and I groaned at the fact we were going to have to _jump_ that distance. I shoved my swords into their scabbards as Legolas made the first leap over.

He landed with the same deftness expected from a deer in the woods. He spun around, quick blue eyes scanning the group. Then focused on me. "Madi," he decided.

I glared at him, but waved my hand behind me. "Get out of the way," I commanded, just as Aragorn tried to put his hands on my shoulders. "I've got it."

I nearly tripped down the small set of stairs that led me to a very long, long fall, and leapt. I jumped over the chasm (which yes, was bigger than it seemed), and any swear or epic scream I had was lodged into my throat as zero-gravity kicked in –

Two warm, nimble hands snatched me right out of the air, and I slammed into a lithely muscular body. I clung to Legolas's shoulders as he made sure my feet touched the ground. By God, that dude _still_ smelled like the forest even though we spent four days in freaking _caves_. His hands were hard on my waist until he had to pull away, blue eyes giving me a quick onceover.

A loud rumble shook the earth, followed by a dark growl. I looked up in surprise to see the doorway we passed through to get to the stairwell begin to bulge, orange glowing lines appearing between the stone's cracks and hot dust clouded up in the air.

I pulled out my swords, giving a quick nod to Legolas in thanks. He did so in return, and looked up just as Gandalf leapt onto our side of the stairway.

_Shwip!_

An arrow glinted in the corner of my eye, and I spun around and deflected it by spinning both of my seraphs. The arrow shattered against my blades with a sharp _clink!_ and I heard an Orc yelp in rage.

"What _assholes_," I said as I turned to look in the direction the arrow had come. Through the darkness in the gloom, I could see the shape of several Orc archers make their positions on high outcroppings of rock far away.

Another arrow darted out, ricocheting off the stone just between the Hobbits' feet. I pulled up my swords just before another one could hit Legolas and splintered it before it could make its mark.

The elf stood beside me, his body brushing against mine as he strung an arrow and fired, hitting one Orc right between the eyes. "Nice shot," I told him.

"Nice block," he returned, before turning around to steady Boromir as he held both Pippin and Merry on the jump over.

Did Legolas just give me a compliment?

I looked back at the stairs as part of the stairway ahead crumbled under where Boromir jumped. Aragorn, Frodo, Sam, and Gimli still stood on the stair, causing my panic to spike.

Another Orc fired an arrow, and I spun around to block it. I managed to cut the arrow apart, but the tip flew between my blades –

"_Shit_!" I gasped, grabbing at my arm. My gear had a fine tear in it, showing off the long scratch from the arrow's point as it grazed my arm. Blood welled up from the wound, and I cursed again.

"Are you hurt?" Legolas demanded after killing the Orc that hit me. He grabbed my upper arm and pulled it closer to him to inspect the minute injury.

"I'm all right," I said weakly, focusing on Aragorn shoving Sam at Boromir. The knight caught the Hobbit with ease, and set him to stand near me.

Aragorn reached for Gimli, but the dwarf bridled as if Aragorn insulted him. "No one tosses a _dwarf_!" He exclaimed.

"For God's sake, just _jump_!" I shouted, making Gimli spring into action. He hopped off the stair and for us, but landed short. Legolas surged forward and grabbed Gimli by his beard, making me wince in sympathy pain.

Then I saw the stairwell Aragorn and Frodo standing on begin to crumble, and I lurched towards them, but Boromir grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. "Let me go!" I snapped at him. "I can make it!"

"You would not be helping them," Boromir said.

"I said I would protect him," I answered, but the next string of words I had were lodged in my throat as I heard the Balrog snarl again, and bust at the wall.

This hit was strong, and it shook the entire cavern, causing rocks to fall down from the ceiling and… break another section of the stairwell.

The rest of the Fellowship flinched back as the massive boulder broke through the stone, but I stayed steady, raising my swords. They brightened as if they were a lighthouse bringing in boats during a storm.

The stairwell's foundation crumbled beneath them, and the whole thing tilted dangerously to the right. But Aragorn controlled the situation, bringing it back on course, and then he and Frodo leaned forward, driving the stairwell into ours.

I stowed my swords in time as Boromir shoved me back to catch Frodo while Legolas caught Aragorn. I nearly tripped down the rest of the stairs, but caught balance just as the rest of the Fellowship started running again.

We raced down two more sets of stairs, my legs burning more than they had in their entire life. The mines here were becoming an inferno, fire sprouting from the ground and licking up the pillars. The heat was becoming unbearable in my clothes, and smoke started choking out my lungs. I was forced to bring the collar of my shirt over my nose and mouth so I could focus.

But the bridge was in sight, and everyone was gunning for it. Gandalf paused to make sure everyone could file across it. "Over the bridge!" He shouted. "Fly!"

I was about to join them, until I realized I was missing something incredibly crucial.

Moria was made entirely of stone. In the whole time I'd been here, I hadn't seen a plant or moss, or even water. How the hell could stone catch on fire?

I stopped just after I passed Gandalf, and spun around. The flames around us grew higher and higher, the smoke billowing out, morphing and condensing into something vaguely human-shaped and _forty-feet tall_. Two bright, orange eyes peered out at us, and a long snap of flame that illuminated the silhouette of two huge bat-like wings. The beast dropped to the ground on all fours, showing off a head decorated with two curled ram's horns.

It gave us a wary look, then opened its gaping jaws and bellowed a strange, rasping sound that could only be described as a blazing fire. It vibrated me to my core, and my eyes widened at the sight.

Balrog.

With the roar, it began to charge, making Gandalf turn around. He gave me a look of uncontained fury. "_Run_!" He shouted at me. "Run, you _fool_! Can you see now it is undefeatable? _Can you_?"

I started running, pulling out both of my seraph blades. They glowed dimly under my hands, but didn't brighten up to full power. I glanced back as the beast lumbered towards us, its hulking, massive frame slumped forward under the confines of the ceiling. Its bright eyes flickered and its body produced enough light that we could see the way across the bridge.

The Fellowship filed across the narrow bridge, and I made sure I was second-to-last in front of Gandalf. I slowed down a little, feeling Gandalf pushing at my shoulders.

"Go, you forsaken child, go!" He ordered, but I spun around.

"You're going to try and stop that thing, and I'm going to tell you right now you need _protection_!" I shouted. "If you think I'm just going to sit by and let you kill yourself out here, you've got another thing coming!"

I heard the Balrog approach, with its strange bellowing growl and thundering steps. I peered over Gandalf's shoulders, finding the beast coming to meet us.

"You know what I can do!" I went on. "I don't know how you do, but you do! You know I can help, so just _let me_! When I promised to protect Frodo, I promised to protect everyone else too. And that includes you."

The wizard didn't force me to leave, or just didn't have the patience left to argue with me. He turned around, and faced the Balrog with me flanking his side.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**It's demon-fighting time! I'm so excited!**

**Sorry I keep leaving you guys on cliff-hangers like this, really. I just can't stand the idea of putting the cave troll with the Balrog, you know? I feel like I wouldn't be doing this bro any justice. I mean, Madi's in this story for the Balrog, we've been jonsing for it since chapter **_**eight**_**, so it only makes sense he premiers our next chapter.**

**You guys ready for it?**


	15. Strong as an Oak

**Oh my gosh, guys, these formatting errors are killing me. I don't understand why it won't underline everything I need underlined. It's the reason our ShoutOuts section looks so messed up. Everyone's names are underlined in my document, but it just doesn't show up here. It looks so unorganized, I'm dying!**

**On another note, I just watched **_**The Lorax**_**. I didn't realize how much in life I was missing until I saw it.**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**Same (Awesome) Guest:**** It's all good, I liked both comments haha. And yes, it is absolutely possible to add shirtless blond elves to the list. And… yeah, my writing was pretty bad starting out. I really do want to go back and edit them because a lot of them have typos and Madi being incredibly Mary-Sue in them. **_**Madi's Moving Castle**_** is my favorite story to date, but this one is slowly beating that. **

**xXChaoticOrderXx:**** Oh geez, no, stop, why does this always happen (I'm typing this with a really passive flare here, just so you know) to me? ;) Hope you like the fight scene!**

**AnonLovesBoromir:**** First of all, your guest name totally killed me. I love it. Anyways, feel free to read if you want, no pressure! Each of the stories should be able to stand on their own, because I always anticipate new readers with different fandoms, so I feel you'll be able to keep up with **_**Howl's Moving Castle**_** easily. The super-awesome pistol has been left with Madi's other things in Rivendell, unfortunately. Sorry, I should have made that more clear. And no problem! Boromir is one of my favorite characters too. Hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

**Random Person 94:**** Haha, I'm really excited about Lothlorien too! But the Balrog right now is my pride and joy.**

**trollalalala:**** Yeah, I've missed writing her quips when she fights.**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**If I Lose Myself**_** ~ OneRepublic**

_**Won't Go Quietly**_** ~ Company of Thieves**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**15. Strong as an Oak**

The Balrog dropped down to all fours and let out another guttural growl.

"You cannot _pass_!" Gandalf commanded, his whole body rigid, his voice dark.

The demon gave us an almost haughty look, then reared up on its back legs. Its whole body erupted into flames, like a peacock exposing his feathers. The Balrog's wings snapped out impressively, and I flipped my swords.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire," Gandalf murmured, his voice growing louder and louder into a rolling bellow. "Wielder of the flame of Anor!"

He pointed his staff and sword towards the beast, and the tip of his staff grew brighter.

"Announce yourself, Madison Verdantia," Gandalf ordered, his focus on the Balrog as it sidled forward. "Now is the only time."

Announce myself? How? I've never really announced myself to a demon before. I just kind of… went in and killed it, took care of business. Did we really have to go through some kind of introduction? Like a, "Hi, my name is Madison Verdantia, and I'm going to kill you now. Do you like rap music?"

I maneuvered around Gandalf to stand in front of him, deciding on announcing myself the only way I needed to. I held out my swords towards the demon.

"_Metatron_! _Sandalphon_!"

My blades burst into light. The Balrog bridled back at first as if affronted, letting out a low, thrumming growl. I took a step forward.

"The dark fire will not avail you, _flame of Udun!_" Gandalf yelled.

The Balrog reached behind its back, and unsheathed a massive sword. It was bright orange, like it had just been taken out of a kiln. It made the demon look more human, and I suddenly wondered if I would ever run into this guy again in another world (or if I ever did). Demons had the ability to transcend worlds, and in my traveling I've learned they can because everyone has the same basic beliefs (or, at least, the same belief in a bad guy).

The Balrog swung the blade down, and I ran forward –

_SHHHIIIIIIIIINNNNKKKKK!_

The screeching noise was deafening as the Balrog's sword chopped down between my seraph blades held in their 'x' formation. A bright light bounced off of the weapons as they collided, making my eyes water and temporarily blind me from the scene. When it all became clear, I focused on the tip of a huge, fiery hot sword just inches from my face, followed by the Balrog's smoldering eyes.

I growled (actually _growled_) at the boiling heat just inches from my body, the strength it took to shove the gigantic sword away, hoping the noise would coax more life into my swords. I pushed the blade away, ducking as it swung over my head.

The Balrog pulled away, letting out an affronted growl. I gasped, dropping to my knees as cold air whipped past me. I glanced back at Gandalf, seeing the Wizard pulling in on himself as he muttered dark words in a language I didn't know. Then, suddenly, his words became clear and loud.

"Go back to the shadow!"

The Balrog took a step back to us, and let out a fiery roar. Well, that certainly didn't do anything. If anything, Gandalf just seemed to make the monster madder. The heat of its roar blasted through my body, and I screamed back with a feral snarl of my own.

"Is that all you _got_?!" I cried, leaping back up to my feet. "Is that _really_ the best you can do?! _Come on_!"

The Balrog growled, then took a determined step right on the bridge. It waved its hand in the air and produced a massive, fiery whip. I skipped back a couple of steps, debating on whether or not to just go in for the monster.

The whip cracked against the air, and sounded like a blast from a volcano – like thunder and fire. It pierced my ears, and I found myself grinding my teeth together.

"How India Jones of you," I informed it. "Someone should've told you: whips these days are so mainstream."

The Balrog whipped forward, and I threw my swords out to block it.

Bright light pulsed through the air again, followed by an almost musical _CRACK! _

I took a few steps forward, but the Balrog struck out again. I leaned back and swiped at the whip, and ran forward again.

The demon roared at the challenge and stuck down at me. I shoved myself backward, landing on my ass, and throwing up my swords just as a heavy, molten chord dropped down on me.

_CLANG!_

That wasn't from my swords.

I looked up, finding Gandalf standing over me with his sword and staff out, looking worn and beaten, but had a defiant gleam in his eyes. When he looked down at me, he lowered his weapons. I smiled up at him, about to say something, but I saw the Balrog's whip coming at us smooth and fast. Gandalf wouldn't be able to hit it. He leaned too heavily on his staff – he needed to recuperate.

I leapt up, guiding Gandalf away so I could take the brunt of the next hit.

_CRACK!_

The Balrog's whip snapped around my swords, and my eyes widened in surprise. "Oh shit," I said.

With the new hold it had on me, the Balrog started to pull me back to its side of the bridge. I scrambled to pull away, my boots slipping and sliding on the ground. I wrestled with the whip as I tried to yank my sword out of its molten hot coils, my heart racing. I think I kept chanting the words, "no, no, no, no, no" as I went too.

Finally, I loosened the whip around my swords enough to yank them away. I almost tripped over myself again, but shot forward to swipe at the whip. The Balrog growled, and snapped its weapon towards me, its tip aimed right for my face.

I ducked, falling on my side as the whip sailed low and fast.

_CZZZRRTTT-TTTSSSSSS!_

"Fuck!" I cried out, dropping Metatron on instinct as I grabbed at my side. Hot, burning pain shot up my side as I did that, and I forced myself to let go. I looked down at my hip, finding a hot red streak slashing down the left side. It burnt past my gear, and through the skin. It looked pretty bad, like it cut through a lot of layers –

"YOU! SHALL NOT! _PASS_!" Gandalf suddenly roared.

_SLAM!_

I looked down at the bridge just in time to see it begin to crumble under my feet. I skipped (well, limped) back behind Gandalf before it could give way completely, and turned around to see the effects of Gandalf's spell.

The Balrog gave a terrified bellow as it lost its footing and couldn't get away fast enough. The monster fell with the rest of the bridge, into the darkness, unable to use its wings in such small confines.

Silence came over us like a soothing blanket. The only sounds were the echoes of the Balrog's cries, and Gandalf and my heavy breathing. Adrenaline had shot through me hard and fast, making me forget about everything in the world except for one thought: it was over. We did it.

I walked up to the wizard, stowing my swords. When I was close enough, I clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Not bad," I said, yanking down the collar of my shirt. "Not as climatic as I was expecting, but not bad."

Gandalf gave a breathy chuckle, relying heavily on his staff as he shuffled towards the rest of the Fellowship. I couldn't help but laugh along with him, my second wind catching up with me. I ended up laughing harder, overcome with the sudden realization I killed a Balrog! Or, well, I helped in killing it.

I skipped ahead a few steps, doing a quick Indian top-rock before throwing out my arms to an imaginary beat.

"_It's just _ten_ percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will!_" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls of Moria. "_Five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain, and a hundred percent reason to _remember the name_!_"

Gandalf chuckled after me, raising his sword halfheartedly to the beat. I pointed at him, shuffling backwards as I serenaded him.

"'_Cuz tonight is the night! We'll fight till it's over, so we put our hands _up_! Like the ceiling can't hold us! Like the ceiling can't hold –!_"

My heart dropped into my stomach when I saw a bright orange snake curl up into the air, breaking my lyrics in half with a vicious _SNAP!_

It shot straight for any purchase of land to pull the Balrog back up from the depths it had fallen to. My eyes widened when it wrapped right around Gandalf's ankle, and drug him back to the edge of the bridge.

"_No_!" I cried, throwing myself towards him. I grabbed his old, weathered hand just before he could topple over the edge.

It was kind of like the scene just before Mufasa died in the Lion King, where Simba's dad tried to claw back up the rocks, and I had Gandalf's arms grasped under my hands. Unlike Scar, though, I was actually trying to save Gandalf.

I tried to drag him back, but it was like trying to pull a giant boulder uphill. My increased strength kind of helped in not letting me fall right over as well, but all I could do was hold Gandalf. My boots didn't have any traction, and slipped and slid across the dusty, smooth stone, making Gandalf slip a little more. I screamed, my chest bubbling up in fear and my throat closing as tears pricked at my eyes.

This was a battle I was going to lose.

Gandalf looked me with eyes filled with sympathy. He wasn't doing much to help himself, and he seemed to know just how dire his situation was as I did. It made everything worse, and I tried to heft him back again.

Only he slipped further and dropped off the ledge, pulling me from my crouching position and onto my stomach. I slid after him, scrambling to grip his wrist with one hand while the other sought a piece of the bridge to hang onto.

"No!" I shouted, my shoulders ripping apart in white hot agony as Gandalf slowly dropped further and further down. When I looked into his eyes, I only saw a grave calmness, an acceptance. He knew his fate, and took it so well. How could he be so calm? Why wasn't he trying to _save himself_?

"You will serve Aragorn well," Gandalf said. "Help them."

"No!" I yelled, trying to pull him back. "No, that's not how this is going down! No!"

But he didn't try to change it. I was trying so hard to keep him where he was, and he was still slipping right through my fingers. Desperation clawed at me – _I couldn't let go_. He couldn't die! "_Please_!" I cried.

"Fly, you fool," he whispered, his voice shaking.

And his hand slipped right out of mine. I watched Gandalf fall into a black abyss.

"_NO!_" I screamed, grabbing at my back to pull out one of my swords. I braced myself for the jump –

"Madi, _no_!" Boromir barked into my ear, his arms clamping around me like vices. "It's too late –!"

"Shut up!" I screamed, struggling through his arms. "It's never too late! I can pull him _back_!"

I almost made it through, until I was shoved into another set of arms. I pulled against them, but this grip was stronger, and I could barely move. "Just _let me_!" I hollered, my throat going raw as the distance between me and the edge of the bridge grew. "I can _do it_!"

It didn't matter. I was pulled out of Moria, turned around, forced to run out of there with a strong hand clamped down on the back of my neck in a downpour of arrows.

The exit hadn't been that far from the bridge. Cool air whipped past us, free and clear and it felt good in my lungs. I surveyed the Fellowship, making sure everyone got out. The Hobbits collapsed right where they stood, sobbing and wailing. Everyone else stood around in a startled stupor, Boromir comforting a raging Gimli. But they were fine.

"Right," I said, and turned around to march right back inside –

The hand clamped around my neck hardened and forced me back like I was some dog getting manhandled by its scruff. My first reaction was to struggle against it, and I did. I managed to pull away from the arms, and I made a break for the mines. But another hand clamped down on my wrist, wheeling me around and making me lose balance.

I dropped to the ground, only then realizing I was spitting and cussing and snarling like some feral cat. A weight dropped down on me, but recovered before it fell all the way.

"I'm not. _Weak_!" I screamed. "I can _do it_!"

Arms as nimble as the wind and strong as iron clamped down around me, dragging me into a lean yet hard build that smelled like pine needles. A hand dropped down on the back of my head that was still covered in its hood, and forced me into a shoulder. Only milliseconds ticked by and I realized I was already soaking someone's tunic through with my own tears. Tears? What the hell? I didn't _cry_.

A string of strange words brushed past my ear in a soothing way, like aloe to a sunburn. They were cool and gentle, melodic and smooth compared the ragged, torn feeling my in chest and in my head. Vaguely, I thought the language had to be Elvish – only one person in the Fellowship smelled like pine needles and could hold me down so effectively.

"I'm sorry," I muttered against his shirt, and the arms held me tighter. "I'm sorry, I should have tried harder, I'm sorry."

Legolas shushed me, and started to rock us back and forth in gentle, slow movements. "Hush, _arotoamin_," he murmured. "_Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa_."

"What does that mean?" I asked, bringing my hands up between us to rub my eyes.

"It means you have the heart of a lion," he answered, and I looked up to see his face. Still five hundred percent attractive, but now (finally) had scuffs of dust and mud from the mines. His eyes were steady and alert and sad. "You know you cannot save him, Madi. He is lost."

I nodded and pulled away. Legolas's hand lingered on the calf of my leg as I stood up. I wasn't sure if it was a comforting gesture, or if he wanted a head start to grab me if I started to run into the mines again. "Lost, but not gone," I agreed.

I held my hand out for him to take, and pulled Legolas up. Or, well, I helped guide him up, since I wasn't exactly strong enough at the moment to help him all the way up from the ground. I noticed it then, with my shaking shoulders and legs.

The elf seemed to notice as he stood up, resting a comforting hand on my arm just below my shoulder. His hand was a welcome barely-there weight. I glanced around at the Hobbits, still on the ground looking like they were lost in a fog of grief. The hood of my coat dropped over my eyes, but I didn't bother pushing it back.

"Madi, your side –" Legolas started off, concern in his voice.

I pulled the coat away from my body to examine myself. There was a tear that stretched down from my shirt down below the hip of my pants, exposing a hideous burn. That must've come from the strike of that whip. It was red and swollen and looked pretty bad, but for some reason, I hardly felt it.

"I'm fine," I said, pulling my coat back over it to start buttoning it up. Legolas looked like he was going to say different, but I saved him off. "It'll be fine."

"Legolas, Madi," Aragorn called. I looked up at the man immediately, finding him wiping off his sword before stowing it in its scabbard. His gray eyes locked on me for a short second, then focused on Legolas. "Get them up."

I heard the elf draw a small breath before he went to Sam, who sat on a small rock close by. He bent down to touch the Hobbit's shoulder –

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir shouted, his own grief-stricken voice giving to desperation.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs!" Aragorn argued. "We must reach the woods of Lotholorien. Come, Madi, Gimli, Boromir, get them up."

Legolas stepped back as Aragorn approached Sam, taking the small Hobbit by the shoulders and setting him upright. "On your feet, Sam," he said, his tone softer, more encouraging.

I made my way towards Merry and Pippin, my left leg beginning to feel stiff and heavy. I reached down and rested a hand on Merry's shoulder. He looked up at me with misty eyes, looking completely lost and hopeless. I tried to smile as reassuringly as I could. "Come on, guys," I murmured. "It'll be safe where we're going, I promise."

_**.M.I.W.**_

We trekked across rocky plains, distancing ourselves from the mountains. My leg began to burn and tear with every leap and bound, and I ended up drawing further and further toward the rear of the group with Gimli.

Aragorn scouted ahead, steady and quick like a panther tracking its prey. I wanted to keep up with him, help him like Gandalf told me, but the pain in my leg won out. I grasped at my side, hoping the pressure from my hand would ease it. I'd never been burnt a day in my life, but let me give you some advice: _don't put pressure on it_. My coat, even though its material was smooth and cool rubbed the injury the wrong way. I gasped, my whole body giving out on me as the shock of white hot pain seared through my entire side. I fell hard on my right side on the rough grass and rock, trying to bite back tears and letting out a cry of pain. I wouldn't cry anymore. I needed to be strong.

"Madi," Gimli said, dropping to my side. "Lass, can you hear me? What's wrong?"

I shook my head and tried to pull myself up, putting as little pressure as possible on my leg. Gimli helped guide me as best he could, but it took all I had not to drop again.

"Sorry," I hissed though my teeth, trying to bite back the pain.

"I've got her," a deep voice said, and I felt a huge arm wind itself around my waist. I looked up, finding Boromir pulling me up to my feet.

"Thanks," I said, pushing myself to hustle forward with the rest of the Fellowship. "I think I've got it, though."

_**.M.I.W.**_

I really didn't have it.

The woods of Lothlorien stretched out invitingly towards us. They were tall, green, and imposing, but all I could think of was that we were going to be safe.

We passed through the tree line, and broke into the heavy forest. I sighed in relief as Aragorn slowed the company to a walk. I felt Boromir flanking my right side, as if ready to catch me if I fell at any second. I was grateful for it – it kind of seemed like I was going to fall at the drop of a hat at this point.

Compared to the outside world, the forest felt incredibly dense and quiet. Soft moss cushioned our feet as we walked, putting more pressure off my side. Birds flitted through the trees and called to one another, perfectly at ease in their home. I reached out to touch a tree, the smooth bark warm and inviting under my hands. Unlike the entrance to Moria, this place felt alive and powerful and confident, like a fat, lazy cat. I liked it.

Gimli rounded the Hobbits behind him with a wild gesture of his hands. "Stay close, young Hobbits!" He said. "They say a sorceress lives in these woods. And Elf-witch of terrible power. All those who look upon her fall under her spell, and are never seen again!"

I smiled, catching up with Legolas and Aragorn. My side burned, but I was more or less living off the high that we weren't running anymore and that I would be able to get medical attention soon enough.

"Well," Gimli went on, "here's one dwarf she won't _ensnare_ so easily! I have the eyes of a hawk, and the ears of a fox –!"

I heard them only seconds before I saw them. Footsteps squished the moss hurriedly, and broke tiny branches. Their tunics brushed against the trees, and I heard the stretching of string before I realized what it actually was.

The tip of an arrow was held right at my throat. Without thinking, I pulled out Metatron and sliced the arrow's point right off, startling the archer. He looked thin and reedy with long blond hair and wide blue eyes.

Another archer, one that looked older and more experienced took the younger one's place, holding its arrow at my face. I glared at him and pulled Sandalphon out. "Just say the word, Aragorn, and I'll take them out," I said, narrowing my eyes.

Boromir rested a heavy hand on my shoulder.

Another elf stepped out from the throng of archers surrounding us. He had wide shoulders and a haughty smirk on his face. "You wouldn't make it past your first opponent," he informed me. "Not in your condition, anyhow."

I glared at him, and pulled my swords around to face him. The move was sluggish compared to my usual since my leg was burning underneath me. "I know just the one to start with," I said, gripping my swords tighter.

"Aragorn, these woods are perilous!" Gimli said. "We should go back!"

The head elf leveled Gimli with a steely look. "You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back. Come, she is waiting."

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Oh man, did we just meet Haldir? I think so!**

**I'm pretty pumped for the next chapter. What did you guys think?**


	16. A Lament for Gandalf

**Sorry for the delay, guys, I've been really sick these past couple of days.**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**AnonLovesBoromir:**** Yeah, I think I cried right along with the Hobbits when I saw the movie in… I guess first grade? I'm so glad you like Legolas! (seriously, I'm internally screaming right now) I'm also glad everyone's in character, I've been extremely concerned about that the whole time I've been working on this. Enjoy the chapter!**

**Random Person 94:**** Umm… Madi will **_**try**_** to show Haldir up, but try is the definite word. Her wound will heal soon, I don't like to keep her down and out for long, but I felt like she needed a little something from the Balrog to prove fighting it wasn't exactly a walk in the park. **

**Same (Awesome) Guest:**** I'm really looking forward to Galadriel as well! Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Northern Downpour**_** ~ Panic! at the Disco**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**16. A Lament for Gandalf**

We followed the wide-shouldered elf and his company further into the forest until nightfall. We had to stop because said wide-shouldered elf had to send along a page to inform the Lady of the Wood he was bringing us into the capital or whatever.

So much for her waiting for us.

I leaned heavily against a tree, watching the wide-shouldered elf say something in Elvish to Legolas. I recognized one word in the bubbly-whispery speech that translated to a "well met" or something of the type.

Please don't _ask_ how I know next-to-none Elvish, it's a slippery path we don't need to go down.

Anyway, the elf continued Legolas's name with a "_thranduilion_" attached to the end. I had no idea what that meant.

Legolas returned another greeting I didn't understand with what sounded like a "_Haldir O'Lorien_" tacked to the back of it. I assumed it meant "Haldir of Lothlorien."

So this wide-shouldered dude was Haldir. I guess I should have expected it, but with raging burns and walking and pain, my train of thought wasn't exactly on point.

The two exchanged a few more lines in Elvish I didn't bother trying to comprehend before Haldir moved onto to Aragorn. He greeted Aragorn with a name and last name I didn't recognize. I tossed it over in my mind as Haldir, Aragorn, and Legolas had a conversation entirely in Elvish, and gave up. I decided instead to wonder what the hell we were going to do next.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves," Gimli suddenly grumbled, bringing my attention back to Aragorn and Legolas. "Speak words we can all understand!"

Haldir turned on the dwarf, wearing the same look of contempt on his face he gave when he first laid eyes on him. "We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," he responded icily.

"And you know what this dwarf says to that?" Gimli demanded. He spat out something dark in either Elvish or Dwarvish, I couldn't discern which. But it had to be something nasty, since Aragorn suddenly looked five hundred percent done, and Haldir looked as stock-still as an iceberg in the arctic.

Aragorn whipped around as soon as Gimli finished, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. "_That_ was not so courteous," he said in a voice so low, I think only I caught it.

And then Haldir's gaze latched onto Frodo. His eyes widened. "You bring great evil with you," he noted, a menacingly protective edge in his tone. "You can go no further."

Of course, anything that sounded menacing and had it pointed towards Frodo Baggins is going to get a rise out of me, huge festering burns be damned.

I pulled myself forward to stand behind the Hobbit, even though my side was saying _no_. I rested my hand protectively on Frodo's shoulder, and glared up at Haldir just as he started to walk away.

"Now hold on one second," I said. "Wasn't it true you said the Lady of the Wood was expecting us? I don't understand how you can even try and say no to us at this point. I bet she'd be kind of pissed if you disrespected her guests, right?"

"Do not pretend to know the Lady, _selde_," he said. "We must do what is best to protect Lothlorien, and your companion will travel no further."

"I'm afraid my Elvish isn't up to par," I said. "So I'm going to have to ask for a translation. _Selde_?"

"Child," Haldir said slowly, as if I were dumb too. "It means child. Now, if you could –"

"Child," I deadpanned, feeling all essence of my control begin to fly out the window. "You mean to call me a _child_? I think you need to slow your roll there, friend, because –"

Boromir gently steered me away, sitting me down on the ground next to a tree. I glared at him, but the man only leveled me with a stern gaze of his own. I shut up, and stared at my boots.

_**.M.I.W.**_

Half an hour (or at least it felt like half an hour) passed since the page was set out to inform the Lady of the Wood of the Fellowship's coming.

Aragorn spoke hastily to Haldir in Elvish, probably trying to convince him to let Frodo in. Legolas stood among his peers, looking a little lost and mostly bored. The Hobbits settled around each other, not quite aware of what was happening around them while Gimli sat next to them and smoked. Boromir and I hung around the tree he leaned me against. We were all quiet, a little too tired and too grave to talk.

I tried to shift to get more comfortable, finding a hot pain jab down my side. I sucked in a sharp breath, hoping I could resituate myself to get more comfortable. Boromir, of course, noticed immediately.

"Are you all right?" He asked, his voice low, as if he were worried we would be overheard.

I wanted to tell him I really wasn't, but instead nodded like a loser, hoping that would suffice for now. Boromir, of course, didn't buy it – I could see it in his face – but decided to switch topics anyway.

"Your fighting in the mines was… impressive," he said. "To be honest, I was not quite sure what to expect from you, Lady Madi."

"It sounds like what you did expect wasn't quite so good," I noted.

He chuckled and shook his head. "If that is the best way to describe it, so be it," he agreed. "My expectations of you were not-so-good."

"No big deal," I shrugged. "Happens all the time. What changed your mind, though, if I can ask? Just so I remember in case it happens again."

"The Watcher," he answered immediately. "Granted, what you did was entirely foolish – running out on your own without help – but you handled it all… well."

"_Well_?" I smirked, and playfully reached out to shove his shoulder. "Just well?"

He laughed, blocking my hands before I could punch him. He held my wrists gently in his much larger hands, a soft smile on his face when he looked down at my hands in his. "_Incredibly_ well," he amended. "In fact I –"

The page Haldir sent crashed through the forest (or at least it sounded like it to my ears). The elves had much the same reaction as I did – their heads turned as if pulled by one string toward what must've sounded like the rustling of a small woodland creature to the rest of the Fellowship. Boromir looked confused, about to ask what the matter was, until the small, lithe elf dropped nimbly by Haldir's side.

Haldir nodded respectfully to Aragorn before he took the elf aside, and they spoke in hushed tones. Haldir took on a tone that sounded a little annoyed, but the other elf looked insistent. Finally, the older elf sighed and stalked back into our makeshift camp.

"You will follow me," he announced. He and his company then made for the path the page went down, leaving the rest of us to follow.

_**.M.I.W.**_

Lothlorien turned from its orange, green and brown neutral tones of the day to deep, icy shades of blue and purple and silver, becoming the essence of every hipster's galaxy-filled dream. Even though it should have felt stuffy and cramped with all of the trees looming so close together, the air in the forest felt light and crisp.

As we were escorted to the Lady of the Wood, elves wandered out of their dwellings, wearing silken clothes that fit and suited their streamline bodies. They watched us all with expressions varying between curiosity and disdain.

We were taken up a huge pathway made of smooth stones seemingly stacked into a staircase (yes, stairs with a horrible side, kill me now), which then turned more refined and looked almost greenhouse-like, with glass surrounding us and framed by white curling branches. The dark blue outside world twinkled with silver lights, and I almost tripped up the stairs several times whenever I stared a bit too long.

The city became incredibly still as we reached the top of the stairs, the hubbub going on in the lower levels hushed to a quiet murmur. A beautiful castle made of white branches stretched across and among the branches of the trees like a spider's web. It twinkled welcomingly with the light of soft white lanterns.

We walked through the open doorway, and Haldir stopped us in the midst of a small foyer. In front of us sat a set of stairs leading upwards in two directions that spiraled around more branches of more trees. It was all incredibly elaborate, and I felt incredibly plain in such a magnificent place. I always was a fail at first impressions.

We clustered into a small group at the base of the stairs: Aragorn at the front, the Hobbits mingling behind him, Legolas at the rear, Boromir to the right, and Gimli off to the far left. I found myself in front of the Hobbits between Merry and Pippin, between Aragorn and Boromir, feeling incredibly helpless and out in the open. I decided I needed to be in the back, until a movement of bright white light flashed in the corner of my eye.

I looked up, finding myself trapped like a deer in the headlights as a woman clad in a long, white dress drifted down the stairs, holding the hand of a man dressed in dark gray robes. He looked like the shadow to the elf-woman's moon – incredibly regal and stately and stoic.

The elf-woman had long blonde hair that was clipped back, exposing an angular face and dark blue eyes. Her gaze was knowing, and cold, and it flickered past everyone in the Fellowship, including me. I felt a little taken aback when we made eye contact, but before I could react, she already focused on something else.

Galadriel, Lady of the Wood.

"The enemy now knows you are here," the man-elf began, his voice clear and grave and steady. "What secrecy you hoped to have is now gone. Now, nine there are, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

To my surprise, no one said anything. I wanted to know exactly how this guy could see anything from _afar_ –

"Gandalf the Gray did not pass the borders of this land," a clear, whispery voice murmured. I looked up, finding the woman-elf in white surveying us again. "He has fallen into shadow," she went on, her voice desolate and quiet, weak. This was not how I pictured Lady Galadriel to speak.

"He was taken by both shadow and flame," Legolas suddenly piped up. I didn't dare turn around, too afraid to even blink in the presence of what I always considered the most powerful sorceress I would ever encounter. "A Balrog or Morgoth, for we were needlessly thrown in the net of Moria."

"_Needless_ were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life," Galadriel disagreed, her tone turning stronger and more resolute. "We do not yet know his full purpose."

But then her eyes landed on me, and I found myself inching backwards. Her look gave a sensation of pins and needles crawling down my neck and collarbone, with the almost-accusing way she stared me down. "Yet you may know this best of all, Madison Verdantia," she mused. "You knew your efforts were not in vein."

The Hobbits and Gimli and Boromir gave me curious looks, and I decided to focus on a corner of the room. Goddammit, I forgot about the mind-reading.

_Don't fucking try it,_ I couldn't help but think. I wasn't in the mood for puzzling, mumbo-jumbo fortune telling. I'd had it happen to me one too many times for my lifetime.

I spared her another quick glance, seeing a sly quirk at the corner of her mouth, before she addressed the rest of the Fellowship. "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little, and it will fail to the ruin of all."

When she paused again, I looked up, finding her gaze once again flickering over me, then to the right. "Yet hope remains, while the company is true. You have loyal comrades among you, so do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil and have a long way to travel still."

_Though, this stretch should not be so difficult for you, Madison Verdantia._

Startled, I looked up, finding everyone else beginning to shuffle away.

_You have traveled worlds just to be here, have you not?_

I belatedly noticed Frodo's eyes wide and startled as he walked away. I started to follow, until I caught Galadriel's steely eyes locked on me. Pins and needles crawled at the base of my shoulders, palms, and knees, rooting me to my spot –

_And you will travel further still. _Her words rolled around in my brain, sending off warning bells and me trying to slam down any protective barrier to guard her from knowing what she was getting into. _Your secrets are known to me, Rouge, the way you know this land. And you are welcome here forever._

I stared up at her, a little stunned at the offer. I glanced at her and then at the dude-elf, who I could only assume was Celeborn, before giving them a curt nod and hurrying to follow the Fellowship.

_**.M.I.W.**_

We were settled in a small clearing away from a majority of curious elves. Aragorn sharpened his blade as he sat next to a sleeping Gimli, the Hobbits were settling together under the roots of one of the trees, and Boromir sat furthest away, looking like he didn't want to be bothered.

Everyone had also bathed and changed into the new clothes Lotholorien offered us. The Fellowship dressed in new tunics and breeches, looking much better compared to the mess we were in Moria. Smelly men (no matter what breed, I've come to learn) are the absolute worst things to deal with on the face of the earth.

I'd also changed and bathed. The bath was fully successful (in my opinion). I managed to scrub all of the grime off of me and my smaller wounds, comb out all of the tangles in my hair and wash it until it was back to its silky smooth yet gnarly wavy self.

My burn finally got medical attention from a pretty interesting ointment an elf brought along with simple orders to smear it on every morning after bathing. It was supposed to heal in two days. I didn't really believe it, but decided take the elf's advice. By the time I made it back to camp, I discovered my wound had become just an angry red welt. Crazy stuff, that ointment.

I was offered a dress from the elves while they mended and cleaned my gear. It was long, and soft, and cream with a lilac overtunic. It fit a little too loosely on my body, but I was too tired to ask for a smaller size. And apparently shoes were just nonexistent in Lothlorien, no one in the camp wore them either.

I made up a small camp at the other side of the clearing, hoping my distance proved a point that I didn't want to be bothered. I laid out my seraph blades, ointment and soap beside one of the giant roots and shoved out a knapsack the elves offered us. I sat on top of it, and started to pull my hair back into a bun as an attempt to keep it free from anymore tangle. That was when the singing started.

It was sad, soft singing drifting from high up in the trees. At first I thought it was a bird, until I could discern actual words. It took me a while, since it was in Elvish, but once I got it, I frowned. Why was it so sad? Maybe it was just an elf thing.

Legolas walked back into our clearing, freshly changed into a light blue tunic and breeches. He perked up at the sound of the sad song. A wondrous look lit up his eyes as he turned around, tracking the sound.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A lament for Gandalf," he answered quietly.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked, going still when the singing became louder.

Legolas's gaze darkened, and he looked down. "I have not the heart to tell," he murmured. He glanced at me. "For me, the grief is still too near."

Legolas sat down next to me as I listened to Samwise talk to Pippin about Gandlaf's fireworks, and if he wondered whether the elves were singing about them.

"You know, one could assume you and Master Boromir are quarrelling with one another, the way you are seated so far apart," Legolas noted.

"Quarrelling?" I smiled, straightening up against the trunk of the tree. "Why would we be doing that?"

Legolas shrugged offhandedly. "Just something I've noticed," he admitted. "He seemed rather put off when Haldir's page returned, like he had something important to tell you."

"I doubt it was important," I said. "Right now, he probably just needs some time to himself."

Legolas's gaze dropped down to my side, his eyes like laser beams as he seemed to see right through the material. That kind of focus may or may not have made my stomach curl up in knots. "How is your side?"

"Better," I replied. "A lot better, actually, this medicine is amazing."

"You should have been treated sooner," he said. "I assumed one of Haldir's men would escort you here first, but –"

"No way, I didn't mind at all. I wanted to go and see Galadriel myself. Trust me, I've been through worse."

He shook his head. "You are too headstrong," he said, allowing a small smile to grow on his face.

"I prefer the term… resolute," I decided, finding myself smiling as well.

"And I believe headstrong is truer," Legolas laughed.

"Well, what's wrong with headstrong then?" I asked.

"When you're fighting? I suppose not much," he conceded. "But when hunting? Absolutely everything."

"Oh my gosh, shut up!" I snapped, attempting to shove him over. I couldn't really do much, since I was a little impaired and he was a little more than human. "That was my first time! And you definitely weren't a lot of help, either, you know."

"Really?" He deadpanned, his eyes narrowing playfully.

"Yes, really," I replied. "First, I thought you were going to kill me, considering how far back in the woods we were going. Then you got so mad when I didn't know how to string a bow, and then the whole rabbit fiasco – which I am still sorry about. And then when the spider web came out of nowhere –"

"It almost caused you to hit me with an arrow!" He accused. "If I hadn't ducked in time, you would have had me as dinner!"

"And _you_ almost hit me in the face with your bow!" I retorted. "Well, you actually could of, but I ducked in time too –"

"You were too quiet!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, excuse me for _the Elf's_ inability to keep tabs on me," I rolled my eyes, "_the human_. Is that seriously the best you've got on that one?"

"I'll show you the best that I have if you two don't keep _quiet_!" Gimli growled from his knapsack.

I immediately scrunched down against the tree, slapping my hands over my mouth as a wide smile stretched across my face. Legolas looked over at Gimli's sleeping place with a passive-aggressive grin on his face, shooting a wicked smirk down at me.

For the first time in a while, I actually felt like a kid again.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Yes, I know, it was kind of a filler, so I tried to rush through it as best I could. **

**I really enjoy Legolas and Madi's banter. He's kind of relaxing, like lemonade. I thought we needed some cuteness in the mess of things.**

**Galadriel was kind of interesting, don't you think? I don't think we've seen the last of her quite yet.**

**What did you guys think? Leave a comment and let me know. This chapter offers cupcakes and sheep, since orders for shirtless Fellowship members are still going through processing.**


	17. It's Like You're My Mirror

**Sorry for such a delay, guys! I don't know why, but this chapter took a lot of work to crank out.**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**Trollalalala:**** Thank you, thank you :)**

**Same (Awesome) Guest:**** You have sheep?! Oh gosh, on a list of things to expect, that wasn't it. What else do you want instead? New Zealand kind of doesn't have a lot, besides sheep and wayward Hobbits, but I'll come up with something!**

**Random Person 94:**** I'm pretty excited about Galadriel. Madi and Haldir will probably get into 'it' at some point in the story. He called her a kid – stuff like that doesn't go down well with our average angry… Aquarius (sorry, I ran out of things to call her that started with an 'a').**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Chasing the Light**_** ~ Matt Kearney**

_**Soon or Never**_** ~ Punch Brothers**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**17. It's like You're My Mirror**

I woke up early the next morning to the sounds of chirping birds and soft sunlight streaming through trees. I rolled over on my stomach, reaching out to touch the hilt of one of my seraph blades. If those were there, I was definitely all right. I opened my eyes, finding myself bedded down on a small knapsack on soft, green grass. A huge tree towered over me, its roots arching out of the ground that almost cradled my temporary bedroom. I sat up and absently reached for my hair. It was still in its bun, but felt like a wreck.

I pulled the leather strap out of its knot and combed my fingers through the gnarls of my hair. It felt thick and soft under my fingers, which was surprising. Seeing as how awful these traveling conditions were, I expected it to be _weeks_ before my hair could be trained back to its normal, healthy style. There must have been some magic in that Elvish soap.

Then I noticed the Elvish ointment, wrapped in its thick leaf packaging, and remembered I needed to use it. My leg felt stiff and a little like it was tearing when I shifted, but other than that, I hardly realized I'd been burnt. But it was better to be safe than sorry, so I stood up with the green-leaf package in hand, and made my way to the small bathing brook we'd all taken turns washing in.

I treaded lightly through the camp, careful not to disturb the Hobbits or Gimli. Near him, I saw Aragorn _actually sleeping_, and Boromir bedded down not too far off. The two men still looked like intense, badass warriors even in their sleep. I noticed lines of worry and tension obvious on Aragorn's forehead, and Boromir's body (from what I could see) looked rigid. But at least they were catching up on some rest.

I actually felt pretty refreshed after last night. I hadn't slept so well in _ages_. Lothlorien, even though it looked creepy, had a definite soothing effect on me. I didn't feel the usual tension and constant wariness and overall _heaviness_ I'd began to feel as of late. Even though I'd always wanted to come here, Middle Earth was a rough place. It wasn't the ideal vacation destination. But Lothlorien almost made it seem that way. Almost.

Once I made it past the campsite, it was a small, somewhat downhill trek to get to the brook. I settled down at the base of a willow's roots. The tree leaned over the water, its drooping branches swayed delicately in a light, refreshing breeze. The water in the brook was crystal clear, and sparkled in the early morning sun as it passed over rocks and continued on its merry way.

Somehow I felt pretty aware of all the _nature_ happening around me. This forest was like the perfect one you could find in cartoons, with earth so soft you didn't even need shoes. Everything was smooth and gentle and quiet. I almost wondered if I was dreaming.

I set the ointment down on a root next to me before taking off the first layer of my dress, a light purple overshirt-thing, and laid it off to the side, revealing the cream, sleeveless dress underneath. Unfortunately, I would have to take off the whole dress to be able to access the wound. I reached for my side and started pulling at the laces that bound me in the fabric, feeling the dress sag even more around my body –

Light, careful footsteps bounded through the forest and to the side of the brook. I looked up a little too late, finding Legolas yanking off his tunic, revealing a lean, muscular torso. He let out a low, contented sigh (I am right there with him on that one) before reaching for his pants –

"W_AIT_!" I yelped, yanking the dress's overshirt-thing over me to shield my somewhat-exposed chest.

Legolas startled, losing his perfect coordination as he whirled around to face my scanty hiding spot between the branches of the willow, and bridled backwards, his eyes wide with horror.

"Miss Verdantia –!" He started out, but tripped over his own feet as he tried to reel backwards and landed right on his ass. He scrambled to reach for his shirt, shot up with incredibly fast reflexes, and faced the opposite direction. "I apologize for the intrusion, I did not realize anyone else was here –"

"It's all right," I laughed. "I thought you were asleep or something. Maybe we should put up a sign or something."

I was kind of at a loss of what to do. It looked like he was waiting for me to redress and leave, but that wasn't necessarily happening since I still had to put ointment on my leg. Awkwardness descended the small bathing brook like a thick, heavy blanket.

"Yes, of course, I do beg your pardon, I –"

"It's fine," I said. "I just needed to put more of this… uh… salve on my burn, though, and, well, I still, um, need to –"

"Of course!" Legolas said, spinning around. His bright blue eyes cut right through the branches of the willow tree, and they widened as an appropriately abashed look seeped back into his features. He quickly averted his eyes, noticing his bare, toned chest, and quickly threw his shirt over his head. "I'm so sorry –"

"Legolas," I snapped, effectively shutting him up. "If you apologize one more time, I'm going to hurt you. Seriously, it's no big deal. Honestly, I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner. I'll be done in a couple of minutes, all right?"

"Of course," he said again, this time less emphatic. Without looking, he gave me a short bow. "Miss Verdantia," he said as his departing line, and quickly disappeared back into the forest.

"You can still call me Madi!" I called after him, knowing full well he could hear me. I didn't hear him give any response, and quickly undressed so I could put more salve on my burn before I got any other unwanted guests crashing my party.

_**.M.I.W.**_

A few hours (and one awkward glancing contest with Legolas) later, I found myself exploring Lothlorien on my own. The forest wasn't as busy and bustling as Rivendell had been. All of the elves here seemed to float on with their own agendas, not sparing me a second glance as I wandered among them. The trees were massive, towering above and blocking out a majority of the sun. What light filtered through the sky-scraper sized trees was tinted with copper as the sun had been setting.

It was incredible, breathtaking, strange, and wonderful. I felt like I felt like I was part of nature and all that hippie stuff. Like if I stood still long enough, a flower would probably sprout up beside me, or a bird would land on my shoulder.

"Lady Madi!"

A heavy weight bumped into my shoulder, causing me to tilt and stumble to off my path. Startled, I whipped around, and found myself grinning at a slightly rumpled Boromir. His strawberry blond hair was wet and wavy, parts clinging to his face or starting to frizz as they dried. He still wore his Gondorian traveling clothes, though they were much cleaner and even looked freshly ironed (even though that's kind of impossible). His forest green eyes were dynamic, no longer looking as haunted as they had the night before. I tried not to notice the dagger hitched to the weapon's belt around his waist. He looked like a picture of health, or even an excitable puppy.

"Hey," I greeted him. "Where have you been?"

"May I join you?" He asked instead, nodding to the pathway I'd been walking down. I shrugged.

"Sure. I don't really know where I'm going, though," I admitted.

"Not to worry," Boromir replied congenially. "I've been doing much the same, and I still don't quite know, either."

I laughed, letting him take my hand and wind it through his arm. It brought me closer to his side, once again putting me in a small box of awareness that was Boromir's physical presence. He was tall, huge, he _towered_ over me just like the trees of Lothlorien.

It was weird. I hardly ever noticed it when we traveled or sparred, but there were moments like this – little, fragile, pointless blips of this journey – where I was rocked into a corner and forced to realize how different I from the Fellowship I was. Men looked as though they were etched from giant rugged boulders, all carved with similar silhouettes of broad shoulders, extreme tallness, and cold eyes. Elves had their weird, angular perfection and seemed to glow with ethereal beauty. Dwarves were small and stocky like rocks, and the Hobbits were like rabbits. I didn't really know what the women of these races looked like, and I wondered if I really wanted to.

"But it is nothing to worry about," Boromir had gone on, completely oblivious to my thoughts. "I'm sure we will come across something familiar if we keep going, and your company will make my walk much more worthwhile."

Oh.

Not really knowing what to say, I shrugged and tried to match his pace. His steps were large and confident, and I had to take two steps for every one of his.

"How long are we staying here?" I asked.

"Another day," Boromir replied. "So we may gather supplies for the journey ahead and rest."

"How much further do we have to go?"

"Are you already tiring of our company, Miss Verdantia?" He said teasingly.

"Not at all," I smiled. "I don't really like staying in one place too long, you know?"

"Even after all you've seen?"

"_Especially_ after all I've seen," I replied, grinning up at him. "This is the most fun I've had in ages. You can't tell me you're not excited for the next wave of this adventure."

"Perhaps I prefer a tamer life," Boromir admitted. "Such destruction does not mesh well with one's heart. If this is what adventure is, I would much rather a life without it."

I frowned. "But… but this is incredible. Going places no one else has been before, slaying crazy ancient monsters from the deep. We're both warriors, Boromir. This is what we live for… isn't it?"

He didn't say anything for a minute, instead pulling me closer to him. He rested his free hand on my hand that rested on his arm. The move almost felt like a hug, like he wanted to shield me from something as he gently squeezed my hand. "I had always thought so," he said. "Now I realize I am tired. I want peace. You can fight for only so long before you realize you cannot."

I looked down at my feet, picking past a large root in the ground. I didn't really understand what he meant by that. He was tired? We only just started!

"You would make a good wife," Boromir suddenly said.

_The hell?_ I looked up at him, arching an eyebrow.

"You would be," he affirmed, "to a man who knows war. You would make an honorable champion to him. You fight with strength and courage, pledging yourself fully to those you deem fit. I saw it in the way you fought with Gandalf, and I see it in the way you follow Aragorn's lead. I can only imagine what you would do for a man you truly loved."

_Not a lot_, I wanted to tell him. My thoughts automatically flitted to a certain black haired Fae with silver armor and a giant broadsword. Meliorn. I didn't do much for him, so he broke up with me. Or well, _grew out_ whatever feelings he had for me and moved on with his life without letting me in on it. It had been a very one-sided breakup.

_Madison…_

I felt a cold mist breeze through my _skull_ as a whispery feminine voice called out to me in my mind. I didn't say anything to Boromir, my focus shifting to looking for the strange call. I looked around the forest, growing a little more nervous than not.

_Madison…_

Finally, I saw it.

Or, well, I saw _her_.

A tall elf woman dressed in white with long blonde hair looked at me from the forest. Her cutting blue eyes ran straight through me, and a corner of her mouth turned up in a ghostly smile.

Galadriel.

_Come…_

Not to shock anyone, but I did see this coming. An invitation of being allowed in Lothlorien _forever_ seemed a little too good to be true to me. There had to be a price, and I felt like I was about to pay it now.

"I have to go," I suddenly said, starting to pull my arm out of Boromir's.

He quickly tightened his hold on my hand. "Miss Verdantia, I do not mean to startle you, it just –"

"No, no, it isn't you," I said. "I just… I understand what you mean, I guess, but I don't think what you're talking about will happen for a very long time."

He reluctantly released my arm, a frown on his face. I took a few steps away from him, glancing back towards the forest where I had seen Galardiel. She was no longer there, but I knew she wanted me to follow.

"I'll see you back at the camp?" I asked.

Boromir nodded shortly, and I ran into the forest, not bothering to take a second glance back.

_**.M.I.W.**_

It took about a good twenty to thirty minutes to reach whatever place Galadriel wanted to meet. I hardly thought about much besides trying to keep up with her. I would follow the wisp of a white dress, or a whisper of _closer_ curling at the back of my mind.

The sun dropped beneath the horizon, casting the forest of Lothlorien back into its blue, purple, and silver hues. The temperature had dropped to a cool breeze, and it cut through my thin dress and caused my skin to erupt in goosebumps. I'd pulled my hair back into a bun so the branches of the trees wouldn't snag it.

I found myself practically stumbling into a small glade. It had been created by the giant roots of several especially tall trees. The air here felt colder, as well as the thick, emerald grass beneath my feet. Light pins and needles engulfed my entire body as I scanned the area. There were stairs ahead of me that led upwards to some place I couldn't see, and small silver lanterns barely created any light, but made a stone pedestal glisten.

I swallowed.

"You know what this is, do you not?" Galadriel's cold, whispery voice questioned.

I looked up, finding the Lady of the Wood emerge from behind one of the tall trees. If this were any other situation, I would have laughed at her overdramatic entrance. But instead, my heart was racing, making my chest grow tighter as the pins and needles started to constrict my body. I looked back at the stone pedestal, and found myself really wishing for my swords.

"I do," I said, my voice low and tight.

The woman made her way towards a small waterfall that trickled from a stream off to my left. She reached down and picked up a silver pitcher, carved with intricate leaves and vines across it. She looked up at me, a curious openness of her features that made me feel like she _knew_ me in some insane, weird way.

"Then will you look into it?" She asked.

I found myself taking a step to my right, trying to edge away from the pedestal, Galadriel, and her mysterious silver pitcher. "No," I replied. "I won't."

She tilted her head to the side, her dark blue eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly. I stood my ground.

"I won't," I repeated. "I've already seen my future once, and that was one time too many. I don't want to see anymore."

"But this does not show the future, Madison," she rejoined, and turned around to fill the pitcher with the glittering stream water. "It shows only what could be, not what will be."

"Yeah, well, there's a fine line between could and will, isn't there?" I demanded, backing up towards the woods. "The last time I saw my future, I died. That's not something I want to relive… or re-die, or whatever."

Galadriel turned around, her gaze cutting into me and stopping me from moving. It wasn't exactly a stern look, nor was it gentle, either. It was a challenging look, she was _daring_ me to look into the mirror.

I glared back at her for all I was worth.

The woman was first to look away, her eyes dropping down to the pedestal and the silver basin resting in it. She raised the pitcher in her hand, and began to pour the water into the silvery bowl. It splashed against the metal almost musically. She looked up at me again.

"I find you very curious, Verdantia," she informed me. "You take no pause in agreeing to travel with nine you've never truly met, and you fight with and for them as if they were your brothers. You dive into battle so fiercely, without pause, without abandon, against… everything. You speak as though you fear death, yet your actions speak anything but."

Once the pitcher was emptied, she stepped back. "I doubt you will find death here."

I scoffed, "yeah, right," but started walking up to the basin. Once I found myself standing in front of the pedestal, I reached out to rest my hands on the stone top. The pins and needles grew to become a little more biting as I pressed my hands against the cold stone. I peered into the water, watching the top of my head reflect against its surface as well as a wobbly sky of stars. I looked up, finding the trees had given way to an amethyst sky dotted with silver stars.

I looked at Galadriel again. "Why me?" I asked.

"Don't you already know?" Galadriel asked in return.

I frowned and looked into the water.

_A woman with big, curly red hair and a 1990s casual clothing made her way up a concrete driveway to a small, picturesque brick house. Bright colored flowers and small cacti were planted in the garden, and I realized I was watching something happening in Texas. _

_The woman made her way into the house, a naïve smile on her face that struck me as a little dumb. She knocked on the door, and a woman with dark hair, tan skin, and an all-too familiar smile on her face portrayed a Cheshire-cat look of contentment. _

_Then they talking about something I realized I knew. The redhead was talking about having troubles having her second child, how she wanted a baby girl. The dark haired woman reached out to hold the redhead's hands in support, and smiled a little too knowingly._

"_You _will_ have a daughter," the woman said. "And she will be beautiful, and stronger than you will have ever imagined."_

_I wanted to scream at the horrifying realization that the dark haired woman was _Lilith_, and she was talking to my _mother_. That couldn't be real. It was a lie!_

_The images swirled out of focus before I could fight them, and I was transported to the empty, dark streets of Bree. I saw myself running through the alleyways, trying to get away from those creepy farmers, passing a man dressed in a dark cloak. I never even saw him until he chased off my pursuers. I saw myself pushing him away from me, the hood falling off his head and revealing that sandy hair and those bright eyes. _

_I saw the face of that strange boy morph into Legolas's face, and then Boromir's. Legolas looking incredibly worried and… something else when he accidently came across my undressing earlier that morning. Then there was Boromir, looking frustrated just before I darted off into the forest._

_Things became confusing and muddled after that._

_I had my swords blazing brightly as I slashed at a giant dog's muzzle, then I was suddenly fighting huge men in the rain. A flash of a man in golden, glinting armor sat on top of a horse, and a strange, worm-necked-dragon-thing suddenly screeched in my face._

_Then there was a girl. A small girl with brown, smooth skin and light brown eyes looking up at me in a forest. A hand rested on her shoulder, belonging to the strange boy who cornered me in the alley of Bree –_

I pushed myself away from the fountain, scrambling away and falling flat on my ass as my vision suddenly snapped back to the view of Lothlorien. I sucked in a sharp breath, curling my fingers into the slick, cold grass to try and regain my bearings.

"What –?" I breathed, forcing air into my lungs as I scanned the clearing for Galadriel. I found her standing by the stream, her gaze impassive, maybe even a little curious.

I scrambled up to my feet, pointing a grassy hand at the woman accusingly. "You saw that," I gasped out. "Don't – don't pretend you didn't. What the hell did that mean?"

"It is what may be if you finish this quest alive," Galadriel explained. "I have only seen what you have seen, and can offer no answer except that."

"Well isn't that helpful?" I spat.

I felt my eyes stinging with needles, but it wasn't from any magic feeling or whatever. No, as my eyes watered, and my body started to shake, I realized I was crying. My legs gave out from underneath me, and I tried my best to rub the saltwater out of my eyes, but as I sucked in a shaking, ragged breath, I knew I was compromised.

_Your tears are ones of joy,_ Galadriel whispered in my mind. _You are blessed in this world, Verdantia. Death will not touch you. I feel it will not for a very long time. Know your suffering will not last._

_**.M.I.W.**_

**And cut! **

**What do we think, guys? I'm willing to trade comments for cookies and shirtless Lord of the Ring members!**


	18. What Makes a Madi

**Finally updating. Sorry, guys, work has been nuts!**

**It seems as though we have differing views on couple names. Is it going to be Boromadi or Madomir? The decision is yours!**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**ParodyHeart:**** Hmm… Madomir haha. I think they'd be a pretty interesting couple, but one does not simply throw Legolas out the window! I love that guy! But I understand what you mean. Hopefully everything will get sorted out soon!**

**xXChaoticOrderXx:**** You saw what I did where now? Lol, it all depends, Lady Galadriel did say Madi had further to travel still, so I wonder if that means elsewhere, or in Middle Earth…?**

**Same (Awesome) Guest:**** No problem! Just for you! I decided we needed our favorite elf to feel awkward and uncoordinated for once. Okay, are we calling cloaked guy Mr. Mysterious? If so, I'm all for it. The deal with Boromir should be sorted out pretty soon. And holy smokes, you've got a menagerie going. Are alpacas nice? I keep getting mixed answers whenever I ask, but you seem like a reliable source if you've got three of them.**

**Random Person 94:**** Well, I was thinking more along the zodiac signs but, sure, she's part fish haha. You get any cookies you like, and any shirtless Fellowship members you desire. The guy at the beginning's identity will be disclosed… soon. As for the Colt, it's been left in Rivendell with Madi's phone, iPod, and her more modern gear. Madi can contact anyone in **_**The Mortal Instruments**_** with a call or text, but seeing as her phone is quite a trek away (and she also doesn't want to deal with all of the craziness she went through in that world just yet), she can't really call anyone. I'm glad I'm keeping you on your toes! Hope you like this chapter!**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Shark in the Water**_** (acoustic) ~ VV Brown**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**18. What Makes a Madi**

I woke up on my knapsack in the Fellowship's campsite. I smelled the sweet scent of porridge cooking, heard the Hobbits chattering, Gimli's rumbling laugh, and Aragorn planning a route for the rest of our journey. I looked over at my seraph blades lying next to me, as well as the ointment in its leaf packaging. I didn't remember how I ended up in my bed last night, but I had a feeling it had to do with a certain blonde elf dressed in white robes.

I sat up, raking my fingers through my hair before any of the Fellowship could get a look at the gnarled mess it was. That was when I noticed the pair of leggings, and a tunic folded next to me, as well as a pair of small brown flats (at least, they looked like flats). I stood up and picked up the fresh change of clothes and the package of ointment before walking through the campsite.

The Hobbits and Gimli were situated around a steaming pot, talking about the similarities between dwarves and Hobbits. Sam seemed to be in charge of stirring the contents of the pot, but would chime into the conversation occasionally. Off to the other side of the clearing, I noticed Aragorn and Boromir studying a map.

I walked through the camp, hoping I could just get to the bathing brook without much delay. The frustrating thing about the Fellowship was that the Hobbits were always _really_ talkative in the mornings, and I was _really_… not.

"Good morning, Madi!" Sam called, halting Gimli and Merry's discussion. This caused Aragorn and Boromir to look up as well, and I sighed.

I gave everyone a halfhearted wave, and they all went back to their usual morning rituals. By this point, they knew I wasn't a morning person, and not meant to be talked to.

The trip to the brook was a relatively short one. I changed out of my dress, bathed, applied more ointment onto my burn (the injury had subsided to pinkish welts, which was definitely relieving to find), and changed into the leggings and tunic. I slipped on the brown flats (light shoes that looked like they were made out of leaves), and tied my hair back into a ponytail.

I practically jogged back to the camp, scanning the small clearing. I found Sam dishing out the last of the porridge to Gimli, and Boromir and Aragorn still going over the map. I made my way towards the two men, and dropped to sitting between them. My sudden entrance startled both men a little, making Boromir slosh some of his porridge on the front of his tunic, and I decided not to notice.

"What's everything looking like?" I asked.

"Well," Aragorn answered, pointing at a small patch of trees on the worn map. "We are here, now, and I feel that we may be able to take Anduin to Osgiliath," he explained as he traced his finger down a wavy line I assumed was a river, "and then we shall travel the rest of the way to Mordor by land."

"Sounds pretty straightforward," I noted. I heard the soft footfalls of a Hobbit approaching, and turned around to find Merry handing me a bowl of porridge. I smiled up at him and took the warm bowl gratefully, finding a wooden spoon already propped inside. "Thanks, Merry."

The Hobbit nodded and sat next to me, still working through his breakfast, glancing up every once in a while at the map.

"It should be," Aragorn replied as I stirred the porridge around in my bowl.

"When will we be leaving?" Merry asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Aragorn replied. "Unless your wound is not healing well, Lady Madi."

Boromir glanced up at me after he'd finished wiping off the porridge on his shirt.

"No, I'm fine," I said. "I think by tomorrow, it'll be perfectly healed. The salve stuff the elves gave me is incredible."

"Good," Aragorn nodded as he started to roll up the map. "I would prefer not to lose any more of our company."

"Agreed," I said before I started eating my breakfast.

_**.M.I.W.**_

After our little breakfast meeting, I decided to spend a little more time exploring Lothlorien. I had my swords hitched around my waist as I trotted through the back routes of the large forest, delving deeper and deeper into its more wild parts.

I wandered around on my own for about ten minutes until I heard something cutting through the air a few yards ahead of me.

_Fwip! Fwip! Fwip! Fwip!_

I perked up at the familiar sound and picked up the pace, my steps barely making a noise through the thick undergrowth. I half skipped through the tree line, and onto flat grass.

The first thing I saw was Legolas, shooting off arrows like a well-oiled machine. I looked to my left, further down a huge grassy glade in the forest, and found several targets set up, ranging in distance. The first five had arrows stuck right in their centers. When I looked back, I noticed several guy-elves surrounding Legolas, congratulating him on his keen eyes and then egging him on, claiming he couldn't hit a target stationed more than a hundred yards away.

Legolas didn't need much encouragement, already reaching back to string his bow. His face was pretty steady to everyone else, but after traveling with who I used to think was an emotionless eunuch, I saw more. I saw the arrogant quirk at the corner of his mouth, and the ways his eyes narrowed a little as he tried to contain how singularly proud he was of himself. It was a little funny, seeing him surrounded by his similar looking peers and even though they looked the same age, he seemed so much more in control.

Legolas had his bow strung and the rest of the elves had backed off. He started to aim for his target, center on it, and then released.

_Fwip!_

The whole thing barely took three seconds.

I watched the arrow shoot through the field surrounded by thick, tall trees, and made quick work of embedding itself into the target at the farthest end of the glade. Legolas's small entourage already broke out into laughter and exclamations in Elvish that portrayed their excitement. Again, I picked up on the strange saying "_thranduilion_," and, once again, wondered what it meant.

I smiled, and started to take a few hesitant steps out of the forest, already finding half of the elves were now aware of my presence. I gave them a small wave, but I just got weird looks. It wasn't until the rest of the elves saw me, including Legolas. A steady, warm smile already started growing across his features.

"Lady Madi," he greeted me, already transferring his bow to one hand so he could reach out to me with a free one. "_Melloneamin_, this is Lady Madison Verdantia, a member of the Fellowship. Lady Madi, these are some of the finest soldiers of Lothlorien –"

"Who are also late for training," a steely, cold voice interrupted Legolas's introduction.

The elves nearly all turned simultaneously, their tall, tree-like forms making it impossible for me to see who was talking. But then, out of nervousness, some of the Elvish soldiers shifted out of the way, revealing a broad-shouldered elf with long silver hair and a displeased look on his face when our eyes met.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Legolas dip his head respectfully to the elf. He then threw out some more Elvish words I didn't understand, barely catching Haldir's name in the process. Even with Legolas's attempt at conversation, Haldir didn't look too happy, his eyes flickering over his elf soldiers (who started to wilt more and more under his stare).

"It seems as though you have found our guests entertaining," Haldir told them. "If only you could show as much interest in your exercises as you do here."

"I think you're just overreacting," I said. "I don't see any harm done here, they just wanted to see what Legolas could do."

Haldir fixed me with an unsurprisingly steely look. "Once again, Miss Verdantia, you seem to speak as though you know you are in the right."

My eyebrows shot up on their own accord. "Well maybe I am," I replied, giving Haldir an excruciatingly long onceover. "And it's probably because you're overreacting."

Haldir's eyes narrowed. "It is not an overreaction when Mordor's soldiers creep on the borders of our very forests. Perhaps it has not occurred to you, but there is a war raging outside, and –"

"The only war raging right now is between you and me, slick," I retorted. I took a few steps towards him, weaving through the small group of elves until I was a foot or so away from Haldir. "And I'm not saying that to start trouble… but it seems like we've already been heading that way, haven't we?"

He definitely wasn't disagreeing with me.

"I think five minutes of distraction isn't going to ruin your soldiers from all they've learned, hell, maybe they even need it, with the whole _war raging outside_, and everything."

A glimmer of anger sparked in Haldir's eyes. Good. I folded my arms across my chest, letting my feet spread a shoulder width apart, hoping I looked as intimidating as I felt.

But then I felt a hand on my shoulder, a light weight that startled me right out of being awesome. I glanced up to find Legolas flanking my side, almost as if he were acting as my wingman. But he looked a little too worried to be a wingman.

Then Haldir _scoffed_. Like, _actually scoffed_. It wasn't one of Legolas's quiet, breathless scoffs that barely showed his contempt that I started getting used to. No, this scoff was loud, obvious, and just as familiar.

"I should realize it is not so easy for you to understand," Haldir explained, contempt clear in his face.

My eyes narrowed.

"You know what," I said, taking a step forward. The elves around me jostled around one another to give me a wider birth. "Let's go. You and me, right now."

The elves around us sucked in nervous breaths. One of them even managed a surprised chuckle. Haldir smirked, finally showing an ounce of emotion that wasn't disdain. I smirked back at him, and folded my arms across my chest.

"As you wish, lady," he agreed. "Shall we go to the sparring fields now?"

_**.M.I.W.**_

_Clang! Crash!_

I held my swords up in an 'x' as I fended off Haldir's next move. Sweat had started forming on my forehead, my whole body screamed in exhausted protest, and my teeth clacked against themselves before I could let out a sound that let Haldir know I was in over my head.

The Marchwarden of Lothlorien hadn't quite broken out into a sweat yet, but as he tried to push my blades down with his own sword, his face contorted and screwed in on itself as he forced more and more of his weight on me.

"_Lle lava_?" He hissed (he'd been asking that question a lot), to which I promptly smirked and allowed my middle finger to lift up from Sandalphon's hilt, letting him know just how much I _didn't yield_.

Just as my knees started to buckle, Haldir let out a dissatisfied growl and we broke apart, only to have the elf strike at me again. I quickly ducked under the length of his sword, and tried to clip his side or leg with my swords, but he dodged, and swung around –

_Clang!_

We were locked in the same position as before.

Thirty minutes had passed in this fashion, both of us reaching stalemates after stalemates as we fought. After the first five minutes, I thought I had Metatron pressed right against his stomach, but Haldir also had his sword at my neck at the same time. Ten minutes later, he thought he had me with his sword's tip digging into my side, but I had him just as squarely with Sandalphon at his neck. After fifteen minutes, we somehow managed to have both swords pointed at each other's necks without the other one realizing.

It was all incredibly ridiculous.

I could tell Haldir was getting more than a little upset by this surprising turn of events (the surprising turn of events being I actually could fight). I could see it in the exact power he threw into his moves, the more than competitive glint in his eye when we collided. He was reaching a breaking point, making this situation blur across the very thin line between a competitive spar and a full-on duel. I wondered if I should just back down, or risk another serious injury that would delay the Fellowship's journey even more.

I didn't have a chance to make that decision fast enough, though, as I suddenly saw the change in Haldir's expression. He wouldn't be made a fool in front of his own men, especially when sparring against me. I was a problem he needed to deal with. _Now_.

Then everything became ten times more real.

I never expected I would end up fighting against an elf. Legolas and I never even sparred during our traveling, so I didn't quite know what to expect.

I know I certainly didn't expect Haldir to be so fast.

He practically flew at me with the speed I'd expect from someone only a little more magically inclined than a Shadowhunter. Meaning he was already starting to shoot above my paygrade.

His sword shot out at me hard and fast, and I nimbly ducked out of the way, deciding my best approach would be a good defense. The elf already wheeled around and started slashing at me, and I threw out my swords to block him as best I could. I could see my seraphs start burning a little brighter, like they knew I would need more power from them soon.

I lurched back out of a pretty nasty swipe Haldir tried to pull, nearly losing my balance as I blocked another hard swing. I forced my weight forward, and managed to shove him back a step or two.

But Haldir recovered fast, and before I could even throw up my swords to block myself, the elf hiked his foot up, and kicked me squarely in the sternum. It knocked the wind right out of me, and I lost all balance, pitching backwards and landing hard on my back. I wheezed as I stared up at shafts of sunlight between the branches of the trees, my gaze flickering forward as Haldir started to bring his sword down to my throat –

Another tall, blond figure shout out behind Haldir, holding an ivory handled long knife against his throat. I let my head fall against the worn, dry grass, completely relieved and sucking thin air into my lungs.

"Enough!" The arbitrator barked. "This spar is over."

He pulled his knife away from Haldir's throat, letting the elf stalk off toward his own men. I focused on the person who probably saved my life, relaxing when I saw it was Legolas. He made his way towards me, and sat down on the ground next to me as the rest of the elves made their way to a different part of the training grounds, looking a little frightened of their Marchwarden. I would be too.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, his voice no longer portraying the panic and rage it had only seconds before. Now he just sounded calm, steady, like he always did.

I nodded, rolling over on my side as I sucked in another shaky breath. "I was about to call it off myself," I admitted.

"I apologize on his behalf," he said. "He let his pride get in the way when you were trying to ease the situation with his elves. He took things too far."

"Not surprised," I muttered as I sat up. I located my swords off to my sides, and dragged them over to my side. "I think he hates me."

Legolas chuckled and shook his head. "I've come to the conclusion it is impossible to hate you, Miss Verdantia. No, Haldir just… he does not understand. You are very young, and a woman. To travel with us, through everything we've faced, and fight and act as you do – he doesn't quite know what to make of you as of yet."

"Story of my life," I sighed, mimicking Legolas's crosslegged sitting position as I turned to face him. Our knees brushed when I did, and as I glanced up at Legolas, and took in his stupid perfect looks, I felt self-conscious about how I looked. Probably pretty messed up, with all that fighting and stuff, which reminded me of yesterday, and the slight, awkward mortification that came with it. I mean, no dude had ever seen me (almost) without a shirt on, which kind of freaked me out a little. Yes, I know, Madison Verdantia, defeater of demons, afraid of a little skin-showing? Color me surprised.

I stared down at the grass between us, the short emerald spikes poking out of the ground, shifting with the gentle breezes that whispered their way through the forest. "We're good, right?" I blurted out.

"Good?" Legolas echoed. "I don't understand –"

"I mean yesterday," I said, allowing more stupid word vomit to tumble out of my mouth, "with the whole accidental run-in with each other, sans shirts, and all. We're good, right? Because I don't want the rest of this trip to be awkward, and I know it was weird, but it isn't really surprising it happened, and we can just forget it, if you want, because I want to be friends still because you're a cool guy –"

Legolas reached out and lightly rested the tips of his fingers on my knee, effectively shutting me up.

"Yes, Madi," he said. "We're… good."

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Yay! Another filler-ish chapter! I'm really sorry, guys, I wanted to just go ahead with them leaving, but I felt like we needed another day in Lothlorien, for continuity's sake when it comes to Madi and Haldir. **

**I don't feel like those two will ever really get along, do you?**

**And at least Madi and Legolas (kind of) resolved their issues with the whole semi-nakedness thing they had going on! Madi and that rambling, huh? She is one smooth talker.**

**Also, I feel like I've heard **_**Shark in the Water**_** (this chapter's themesong), but I don't remember where? Do you guys know?**

**Leave a comment, if you'd like!**


	19. On the Road or River, Again

**Okay, seriously? I love you guys so much. I've been so stressed out about working on my main novels and trying to update here like crazy to keep you guys happy (because you are all insanely important to me and you should be happy), and I felt so awful about not updating fast enough on the last chapter. **

**But then I get on today, and here you guys are, commenting (which is the only way I know you guys are out there, kinda) and I'm so happy you're still bearing with me. I really appreciate it, and I'm trying to make this story super-awesome for you.**

**ShoutOuts~**

**Random Person 94:**** Well, Madi and Haldir kind of parted on some rather violent notes, so I'm foreseeing quite a bit of clashing when it comes to Helm's Deep. Glad you enjoyed the cookies, and I'm **_**extremely**_** excited about Gandalf and the Rohirrim. **_**Extremely**_**.**

**Same (Awesome) Guest:**** I'm so glad you liked it! I agree Madi and Haldir need to get along. They're just an epic bromance waiting to happen, I swear. Your alpacas sound so cute! You make me want one now. And bonus points for Leon S. Kennedy lookalikes (I feel like you need to sneak a pic for proof, though lol)! When it comes to Madomir or Legolas, we're just going to have to see. I'm not giving anything away, you can't make me!**

**Trollalalala:**** I think everyone's shipping Madomir at this point haha (I silently am from my omniscient presence). And when is Legolas **_**not**_** attractive? I ask you, **_**when is he not**_**? And I really loved Haldir in the last chapter too.**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Dancing on TV**_** ~ Bad Veins**

_**The Age of Worry**_** ~ John Mayer (a very Madi song)**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**19. On the Road… or River, Again**

I found myself waking up in the early hours of the morning in Lothlorien, preparing to leave the forest and hit the next leg of the journey.

My gear had been mended and cleaned to an eerie perfection, and left on the stump where my other clothes had been left. It'd been mended so well, I couldn't see the added or stitched in material where the Balrog burned away my clothes, or where the Orc arrow cut through the shoulder of my coat. Almost like it'd been magicked away.

I brushed my fingers across the fabric, wondering if I could use my newly found magic sensibilities to trace any sort of charmed influence on the leathers. I couldn't find any, and chucked it up to elves being really good at sewing.

The rest of the Fellowship started waking up as I tightened my wrist-cuffs around my forearms. I balled my hands into fists, feeling the tendons and muscles jump around my hands, fingers, and forearms underneath the heavy leather.

Everyone else had been doing much the same. Aragorn as buckling his sword around his waist, Boromir was securing his shield across his chest, Gimli hefted his axes and put them in his respected scabbards, and Legolas seemed to be going through an arrow count.

I reached for my seraph blades and pulled them over my shoulders, securing them in an 'x' on my back. I secured the belts of my scabbards against my chest and rolled my shoulders back, making sure I had enough room to move. I pulled my hood out from underneath the swords and let it lay flat on top of them, then pulled my hair back into a high ponytail.

Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I glanced up and found Frodo making his way towards me, fiddling with his scabbard's belt across his chest. "How do you get it to stay without slipping?" He asked, his meek voice breaking the heavy silence of the clearing.

I smiled and kneeled down in front of him. I reached out and fiddled with the buckle myself, mainly due to the hot, dark pull of the Ring just millimeters away from my fingertips, but finally forced it into place, and smoothed out the leather across his tiny chest. I pulled away, letting my hands rest on my knee.

"Like that," I said. "This is a good way to carry a sword, you know. If you ever have to pull it out, the scabbard doesn't get in the way of your legs if you're running."

Frodo nodded, his wide blue eyes intent on every word that came out of my mouth. I almost clapped my hand on his upper arm, but thought better of it when a low, warning hiss of _Verdantia_ flitted across the front of my mind. I couldn't help but squint at the space on Frodo's chest where I knew the Ring sat, but tried to downplay it with a smile as I rose to my feet. I gently rested my hand on his shoulder as I walked around him.

"You can feel it, can't you?" Frodo suddenly asked, catching me off guard.

I looked down at him in surprise as the Hobbit turned around to look up at me. I spared a glance at the rest of the Fellowship, knowing we were a good distance away since I still kept to the edge of our campsite. Maybe they wouldn't hear…

"In Rivendell, Gandalf said I should trust you," he said, his voice hitching on the wizard's name. "He said you would understand the weight I bear like no one else. Is that true?"

I didn't know what to say to that. Words crowded at the back of my throat – I mean, what could I say? Thanks a lot Gandalf, instilling false hopes in Hobbits since T.A. 2941 and having them believe it so they do awesome things.

"Well…" I reached up to cup my hand behind my neck, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't totally make Frodo think he was alone in the world. I'd never been a ring-bearer, so I had no idea if I _bore a weight similar to his_ or whatever.

"Are we ready?" Aragorn asked, thankfully saving me from an awkward answer.

Frodo and I looked back at the rest of the Fellowship, finding them putting on the last of their gear.

"I think so," I answered, glancing down at Frodo.

_**.M.I.W.**_

We stood on a bank of what I guessed was the Anduin river. Three boats were tied to the bank and bobbed gently on the slow-flowing water. I stood by the tree the boats were tied to, and looked on as the Fellowship packed the boats with fresh food, clothes, and water. I wanted to help, and had a mind to, until Aragorn insisted I stand aside, for fear of irritating my injury.

So I stood aside, a little content with watching everyone else do the heavy lifting with Pippin and Merry, who were busy chowing down on weird shortbread things.

"Lembas," Legolas noted when he saw what they were eating. "Elvish waybread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man."

My eyes widened, and when Legolas walked away to get more bags, I looked back at the two Hobbits. "How many have you guys eaten?" I hissed.

Pippin shifted nervously, looking down the river. "Four," he admitted quietly.

Merry and I met eyes, and both of us burst out laughing as Pippin burped and grabbed at his stomach with a grimace.

I wiped the tears out of my eyes and looked up, startled into silence as Lady Galadriel stepped out of the woods and towards the bank with a couple of Elvish stewards at her sides. She beckoned all of us over. Pippin and Merry scrambled toward her, as did Gimli (though he was much more suave about it).

We ended up in a sort of hodgepodge group, looking up at the tall woman. She smiled at all of us, then was handed two small woven belts by her stewards. "For you, dearest Hobbits," she said as she gave Merry and Pippin the two belts with daggers attached to them. "These blades have already seen war, and will serve you well. May they keep you safe in times ahead."

Galadriel then made her way to Aragorn, where another elf handed her a large golden scabbard and belt decorated with silver vines and leaves. "For you, good Aragorn, may it always keep your blade sharp." Aragorn bowed and quickly changed the belts.

I looked up just as Galadriel produced a bow for Legolas, who looked as excited as a kid on Christmas. She gave Boromir a belt that looked similar to the Hobbits', except his was gold. Sam received a strange rope, which I didn't get, because he was going to be doing the most dangerous stuff of all the Hobbits, besides Frodo.

Galadriel gave Frodo a small vial of some clear liquid. I couldn't see what it was, though, because she had quickly put it in the pocket of his traveling coat. I shrugged it off, deciding it wasn't a gift for me, and I shouldn't be bothered with it.

Then Galadriel stepped in front of Gimli, who looked weirdly bashful. I raised an eyebrow as Galadriel smiled. "And what gift shall I give to you, fair Gimli?" She asked. "What gift will a dwarf receive from the elves?"

Gimli shuffled nervously from foot to foot. "Just, perhaps, ah…" he mumbled. "One more look, at fair Galadriel's face. For she is much more beautiful than any jewel found in the deep underground."

My brows shot up, and I grinned as Gimli looked up at Galadriel. The woman smiled and laughed, and Gimli quickly turned and waddled off with a thunderous _harrumph_.

Thinking everything was said and done, I turned and started to walk toward the boats.

"And wouldn't you like your gift, Verdantia?"

I paused mid-step, and slowly turned around. The whole Fellowship stared at me in mixed expressions of surprise, while Galadriel had a small smile on her face. I frowned.

The elf woman drifted towards me, and pulled out a dagger from her white robes. Its small hilt was carved from dark wood and had a silver edge. Its scabbard seemed carved from wood as well, lined in silver. The blade looked a little larger than the Hobbits' weapons, and when I took the weapon from her hands and pulled it out, I realized it was. Its lines were artistically cut, similar to my seraph blades, and grooves of vines and Elvish were carved into the metal.

"This blade has seen much battle," Galadriel informed me, "and much hunting. It would serve well to belong to a wanderer such as yourself, Verdantia."

I pushed the dagger back into its scabbard, and looked up at Galadriel just in time as she cupped the side of my face, and pressed her full, soft lips against my forehead.

I was shocked into stillness, my whole body going rigid as soft, cold feelings drifted through my veins. My eyes were opened wide as I stared at nothing, feeling the gentleness of Galadriel's magic wound its way through my body.

_Consider this my blessing, Madison Verdantia_, she whispered in my mind, _that Middle Earth shall sustain you forever._

When Galadriel pulled away, I looked up at her, my heart dropping into my stomach as she smiled gently at me. I slowly tucked my dagger into the belt of one of my seraph blade scabbards under my arm, and launched myself at the elf.

I threw my arms around her neck and held her tightly in a furious hug, which caused a vast population of the river bank to gasp and bridle at my sudden display of affection. I didn't care. All I cared about was that I had no idea how to articulate my thanks to her, for everything she'd done, except through an embrace.

Galadriel's merry laugh jingled in my ears as she gently touched my back. I pulled away just as instantly, and bowed (like, actually bowed) to her. "I'm forever at your service, Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien," I said quickly, before backing up toward the boats and before I could make an even bigger idiot of myself.

_**.M.I.W.**_

I was settled at the bow in the small Elvish boat with Boromir and Merry and Pippin. The two were fast asleep at the center of the boat, and had been for an hour or so. I kept sneaking glances back at Boromir whenever I could, both of us grinning or smirking.

Finally, unable to take it, I reached down into the river, and scooped up a handful of the icy water to shower Merry and Pippin with it. I was so quick, as soon as I doused them with the water, I curled back at the bow and pretended to be asleep.

"Oi!" Pippin yelped.

"Who did that!" Merry demanded as the two other boats were now filled with laughter. "Speak now, or else speak at the end of my blade!" Merry shouted, whipping out his dagger and flailing it around uselessly.

Suddenly, the air changed. The harsh caw of a crow echoed across the vast river of Anduin. Startled, I pulled myself up to standing at the bow of the boat, causing it to tilt and Merry and Pippin to wail as they toppled over one another. Boromir quickly shushed them.

The sounds of the startled birds grew, causing my heart to start racing. I looked over towards the other two boats at Legolas and Gimli and Aragorn, who all had similar expressions of concern on their faces.

"What is that?" I demanded, straining my hearing so I could attempt to listen into the forest. I only heard the chaotic flutters of wings and startled cries of the birds – they drowned out any other noise.

"Celeborn warned me of creatures following us," Aragorn said. "They travel during the day and are larger than Orcs."

Uruk-hai.

I slowly reached up to hold the hilt of my new dagger.

"We will camp on the banks at nightfall," Aragorn said, and shoved his oar in the water with a newfound strength.

_**.M.I.W.**_

Under the cover of darkness, Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir pulled the boats up the rocky bank. Gimli and I kept in charge of the Hobbits, ushering them behind a large tree to settle them down for the evening.

"We have to be extremely quiet tonight," I said, giving Merry and Pippin an especially hard look. "_No fires_."

They nodded quickly, aware that something very dangerous was moving around us, and settled in for the night by passing around a loaf of lembas bread. Gimli sat near them, steadily smoking his pipe. I sat down next to Gimli, ears straining for the slightest of sounds. At one point, Gimli tried to hand me his pipe, but I shook my head, and he went back to smoking.

Sam tried to coax some food into Frodo, but he wouldn't eat.

"I'm supposed to help you, Mr. Frodo," Sam said. "I promised Gandalf I would."

Frodo continued to stare out at the river. "You can't help me, Sam," he murmured. "Not this time."

That felt like a stab right through the chest if I ever felt one. It was like I could hear the distinct _no one can_ in his words.

I stood up and made my way towards them. I yanked the lembas bread out of Sam's hands, and forced it into Frodo's. "As your guard, I'm ordering you to eat," I said. "You have to stay strong, Frodo. I can't protect you if you won't protect yourself."

I then made my way towards the river, stepped lightly across the rocky shore, where I found Boromir and Aragorn behind a large boulder. I walked towards them, frowning.

"What's going on?" I asked as I made my way to Boromir's side. I let our shoulders brush as I stepped around him, looking out onto the river. It was cast in black and white under the moonlight, making the water look murky and black like it had in Moria. A singular log drifted across the water.

"Gollum," Aragorn said. "He has been tracking us since Moria."

"And is he leading the enemy to us?" Boromir asked, his eyes glued on the strange log as it bumped against a pile of rocks.

I glanced back at Aragorn, expecting him to say something. He didn't.

"We should go through Minas Tirith," Boromir suddenly said. "It is the safer road, you know that. From there we can regroup, strike out from a place of strength –"

"There is no strength in Gondor," Aragorn interrupted, cutting Boromir's argument short. I felt the tension rise between us quickly.

"You were quick enough to trust the elves!" Boromir hissed accusingly. "Why do you have so little faith in your own people? Yes there is weakness, there is frailty, but there is courage also. It is an honor to be man."

Aragorn shook his head, and started to walk away.

But Boromir was quicker, and lashed out to grab the sleeve of his shirt. "You are afraid!" He accused, startling me as he hauled Aragorn back in front of him. "You have been afraid your whole life! Hiding in the shadows, scared of who you are, of what you are –"

"Guys, stop!" I snapped, quickly squeezing into the narrow space between them. "We can't do this now –"

"I will not lead the Ring within a hundred _leagues_ of your city," Aragorn hissed at Boromir.

"Both of you, shut up now," I growled, shoving them both back. I managed to put enough strength into it to make them stumble back (yay enhanced strength). I pointed at Boromir. "_You_ need to chill the fuck out or so help me I… Now is _definitely not_ the time to argue, especially now when it seems that we have some enemy following our every move. While Aragorn has been _hiding in the shadows_, he's also learned to be an expert tracker, or maybe you forgot that. He knows what we're doing; he knows how to hide us from the enemy. But, most importantly, he is our leader, and you should follow his lead without dispute. You will show him some respect, or else I'll _make you_."

Boromir stared me down, a distinct fire raging in his green eyes. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he ground his teeth together, and I narrowed my eyes at him. "Got it?"

He glared at me for a little longer, the anger in his eyes replaced by slight betrayal, which caused me to falter a little. A _little_. But then he nodded.

"Good. Now go to bed, we have a lot more to do tomorrow than yell at each other," I ordered. Boromir hesitated, and I gave him a look I hoped was the equivalent to the saying '_did I stutter?_' but he walked past me, pushed past Aragorn, and made his way to the campsite.

"Lady Madi –" Aragorn started out.

"And _you_," I pointed at Aragorn, "you _do_ need to trust people. I'm not saying they're great, from personal experience I know that, but I'm not saying they're awful, which I'm saying from personal experience as well. I'm not going to tell you to do it right away, because I think you've been in the right for this long, but I am going to tell you to get some sleep as well. I'm taking the first and only watch."

Aragorn looked like he was about to say something else, but thought better of it and inclined his head toward me before turning around and making his way back to the campsite.

Finally alone, I focused on the river again, surprised to find a strange, slippery bald thing with elongated limbs crawl out of the water from behind the log, and scramble up the rocks on the opposite side of the shore. I reached back for my seraph blades and took a step forward, knocking one of the rocks against another. The creature turned around, yellow eyes reflecting on the water and shining back at me, before it turned around and hurried into the underbrush.

Gollum.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**So, what are we thinking? What are we thinking?**

**In my opinion, I feel like Madi does know what Frodo feels with his isolation of carrying the One Ring, and how this quest can lead to his death. Madi had a similar issue with her being foretold she was going to die. She felt alone, knew her fate was certain, and she's still getting over the fact that she **_**might**_** be safe. But of course, being her, she can't see that maybe her problems are just as frightening as any of her literary allies'. Am I right here, or am I wrong?**

**Ooh, and presents from Lady Galadriel! To be honest, I actually didn't want Madi to receive a gift. I felt like she has everything she needs, but then I considered other people would find it rude on the elves' part if they didn't give her something too, so ba-BAM! She got a smexy elf dagger.**

**I have the link as to what it looks like on my profile, so check it out if you're interested!**

**And then we had bossy Madi and our first sighting of Gollum! Holy smokes, lots of goodies in this chapter, huh?**


	20. They're Uruk-hai, BITCH!

**ShoutOuts ~**

**Trollalalala:**** Well, hell yeah, bossy Madi better be. Shoving people around, showing off dat bravado lol. I love it too when she's like that because we usually see her following other people's orders, not telling them what to do. That fic sounds kind of cool, actually, you should send me a link if you find it. Sshh! Don't speak about my man like that haha. I actually really liked Orlando Bloom as Legolas, he brought on a certain puckish quality to him that I'm a huge fan of. I think anyone else would've made him too serious. But that's just my opinion and me falling in love with movie!Legolas first (because I saw the movies before I read the books).**

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**When the Sun Goes Down**_** ~ Arctic Monkeys**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**20. They're Uruk-hai, BITCH!**

We pulled the boats up a not-as-rocky shoreline, lined with gravel later the next day. I helped Boromir heft our boat further onto the shore and glanced over at him as I did. He sent me a frosty look in return, which hurt a lot more than I hoped it showed.

I knew I pissed him off last night. Majorly. But he also pissed me off, so… I didn't know what to do, but I had to make the situation right, somehow.

Gimli and the Hobbits started setting up a small camp. Legolas joined Gimli's side at the beginnings of an even smaller fire, while Aragorn stood off to the side and unloaded some sleeping-bag-things.

"We cross the lake at nightfall," he decided. "We'll hide the boats and continue on foot, and approach Mordor from the north."

Again, I found myself glancing over at Boromir, who looked stiff. His jaw was set tightly, and caught me looking at him. He then stood up, and started to walk away from the campsite, grumbling about finding some wood for the fire.

"Oh, yes," Gimli sighed, "just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impossible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better! A festering, _stinking_ marshland, far as the eye can see!"

"That is our road," Aragorn said abruptly, his voice hard and steady. "I suggest you take your rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

"Recover my –!" Gimli echoed, incredulous. "Why, I – _guugh_!"

Legolas joined Aragorn's side in that time, and whispered something in his ear. The two continued to talk in hushed tones. I decided to take that as my cue and stand up as well.

"I guess I'll scout around the area," I announced to no one just as Merry trotted toward us with a small stack of wood in his hands. He dropped it near the fire, and clapped Gimli's shoulder in mutual support as the dwarf continued to grumble on.

"Where's Frodo?" He asked.

I shrugged, making my way further into the forest. "Dunno," I replied. "I'll find him, though."

_**.M.I.W.**_

I walked further into the forest, my boots crunching through the dead leaves steadily piling on the floor. It was becoming fall in the forests of Middle Earth, while in my world I was sure it was nearly August.

The trees were thinner and shorter in this forest than Lothlorien's, and everything felt incredibly cold. Not temperature cold, it was a fair day out, but… just a feeling of coldness swept through _me_. I decided it was my new Madi-sense tingling, and tried to ignore it.

Except… I worried about the Uruk-hai getting closer and closer to us. I felt that if I kept everything in check long enough, we'd be able to slip out from their patrol without harm. I wanted to try and keep the Fellowship together for as long as possible.

I made my way toward an impressive stone outcropping, and realized it was actually the side of a building. I walked up the stairs, now covered in a carpet of orange and brown leaves, leading up the hollowed out walls. I walked through the empty, half erect stone corridors and out the other side, smiling a little. I guessed it was the small thrill of warning you get when you're in a place you shouldn't be, yet you feel a sense of accomplishment just by _being there_. Like you've cheated the system.

The thrill of warning quickly died when I felt a sudden pull in my chest, like claws were gripped around my ribs and yanking me forward. It stole my breath away.

The cold feeling of the forest turned humid and dark, familiar and frightening and longing at the same time. I found myself walking faster, out of the stone building, following the strange pull, worry tingling at my temples.

"You _fool_!" A deep, thunderous voice boomed, startling some of the birds in the trees. "Give it to me! Give me the _Ring_!"

I started running, sprinting toward the voice.

"No!" Frodo screamed, and I yanked out the Elvish dagger.

A large boulder lay ahead, and I quickly scrambled over it, my eyes widening at the scene I came across when I dropped to the other side.

Boromir had Frodo pinned, and the two wrestled on the ground.

"Stop!" I shouted.

I launched myself forward, tackling Boromir off to the side. He hadn't heard me coming, he looked completely dumbstruck as I punched him hard in the jaw with the same fist clutched around the dagger. Boromir fell hard on his ass, staring up at me in pure shock as I straddled across his lap, and brought the dagger's blade parallel to his throat.

Once I felt I had the man secured, I turned to look at Frodo. He was pretty ruffled, but no worse for wear. His eyes were wide and frightened, and he had the Ring clutched tightly in his hand. I could still feel its dark siren song in waves as its power crashed against me, but I wasn't buying into it. Not this time.

"Frodo –"

But Frodo slipped the Ring on his finger, casting him into immediate invisibility. I heard his footsteps crunching through the leaves, sounding further and further off.

"Frodo!" I shouted, leaping up from Boromir's lap. I was about to run after him, until a heavy weight knocked me down.

I tried to scramble out of the way, but Boromir held me down with his strong hands dragging my shoulders into the ground. He had my back pinned to the ground, and straddled me, picking up my dagger laying a few inches away.

"You know _nothing_," Boromir hissed at me, a malice in his eyes so dark it seemed to turn his eyes black. "I see your mind. You will let him take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us!"

"Boromir!" I shouted, trying to scramble out of his hold. "Boromir, wait! Stop! It's me! _Please_!"

My breathing was fast and ragged. I was completely trapped under him, I couldn't reach back for my swords, Frodo was missing, and he had my own dagger pointed towards me. Full panic set in as I felt everything spiraling out of my control. "_Stop_!" I screamed.

And it did.

The forest felt incredibly quiet as I watched the hateful haze in Boromir's eyes wash away. I felt the lingering darkness slip away, but it definitely didn't help me relax. Boromir stared down at me, blank at first, and then his gaze traveled to his hand, where the dagger was poised and ready to jab into my throat if he wanted it to.

He let out a startled sound, dropping the dagger as if it burnt him, and scrambled off of me. "Madi," he said, reaching out to me.

Of course, I recoiled, scrambling back and grabbing my knife. I held it out protectively in front of me as Boromir, on his knees, held his hands out in front of him. He looked wild, afraid, as his whole body trembled.

"Madi, please," he begged. "What have I done? I am so sorry, I beg your forgiveness. I do not – Madi you know I would not – I –"

I dropped the knife, and once again launched myself towards him. But differently. This time, I threw my arms around his neck, tackling him to the ground, relief hitting me hard and fast as I felt his arms wrap around my waist.

"It's okay," I mumbled into his neck. "It's fine. You're fine, I'm sorry –"

But then Boromir pulled my head away from him, and cradled my face in his hands. He stared at me for a moment, and then brought my lips down to his.

The kiss was rough, desperate, and gentle at the same time. It wasn't something I'd experienced before, really, but then again, I didn't have a lot of experience to count for. I just knew I wasn't a fan of it.

But for some reason, I kissed him back, just as hard, reveling in the sense of mouth-to-mouth contact. It'd been a while since I'd been kissed, or kissed anyone, and I certainly wasn't going to let the opportunity slip past me.

Boromir pulled away, a slight smile on his face. I smirked down at him.

"Don't think this changes anything," I said. "I can't have any guy just pin me down like that. It'd totally ruin my street cred."

Boromir reached up and kissed me with one, two, three chaste, playful kisses. "Of course, my lady," he smiled. It quickly disappeared, though, and worry formed a line between his brows. "Frodo –"

Of course. Epic plotlines wait for no epic make out sessions. I smiled and kissed him lightly in return. "Go back to camp," I said. "I'll find Frodo."

I stood up and picked up my elf dagger, and attempted to flip it in my hand. Of course, because I was still reeling a little from the kiss, my hands were trembling. I slipped up and almost dropped the blade, and quickly stuck it back in its scabbard before Boromir would notice and think he had some sort of effect on me, _which he didn't_. When I looked up, I saw him watching me with an amused smirk on his face.

"First order of business before I go collect wayward Hobbits. _No one_ touches my weapons," I said, feigning a serious tone. "Especially knights of Gondor, no matter how attractive they may be."

"I'll have you know I am no mere knight of Gondor," Boromir said as he pushed himself up to his feet. "My position is Captain-General, you see."

I made a large show of assessing him. "I do now," I noted. "But still, my rule stands."

"And I shall follow it gladly, as I will with you, Lady Verdantia."

_**.M.I.W.**_

Of course, one does not simply track an invisible Hobbit.

I ended up trying to copy the movie's set, searching for another broken down stone building on a yellow grassy hill.

What I ended up finding was Aragorn, searching around a hilly part of the forest near the treeline leading out onto said yellow grassy hill.

"Have you seen Frodo?" He asked, making his way towards me.

"I did earlier. Boromir attacked him, under the influence of the Ring," I explained. Aragorn frowned, but didn't look too surprised. "I broke it up, though, and Boromir's all right, thankfully. The Ring was using some pretty strong magic on him, though, I could feel it. He's incredibly sorry."

"Yes, well, he will be," Aragorn replied darkly. I rolled my eyes.

"Anyway, Frodo put on the Ring and split, but I think he went this way," I said, nodding toward the hill.

We both trekked up the small incline, finding a large stone structure at the top. It had a circling of griffins on the roof. "What was this place?" I asked.

"Amon Hen," Aragorn answered. "It used to be a watchtower during the days of the great kings. Now it lies in ruin –"

And that was about when we saw Frodo tumble off the roof of the squat building and onto the flat, grassy ground.

"Frodo?" Aragorn asked, quickly making his way toward the Hobbit. I followed, careful not to startle him, given with what just happened a few minutes ago with Boromir and I (yes, in case you're still wondering, I feel like I'm vibrating out of my skin with excitement).

Frodo scrambled up to his feet, startled. "It has taken Boromir," he said.

"I know," Aragorn said. "Madi has told me."

Frodo looked over at me, his eyes wide. He pulled a fist close to his chest protectively, and I stopped in my tracks. "I stopped him, Frodo. It's safe."

"Where is the ring now?" Aragorn asked, which was apparently a bad move.

I could hear Frodo's sharp intake of breath before he started to back away from us. Well, more like run away from us, backwards into the small watchtower. Aragorn and I followed him.

"Frodo, wait!" I called.

"Stay away!" Frodo commanded, forcing Aragorn and I to stop at the edge of the watchtower. My heart was sinking.

"It's all right, Frodo," I said, dumbly. "I –"

"We swore to protect you," Aragorn finished.

"Could you protect me from yourselves?" The small Hobbit demanded, a new fire in his eyes I'd never seen before. One stirred by fear, and determination, and it almost made me sick. I was supposed to protect him from that. Frodo slowly pulled his fist from his chest, and opened it. The Ring lay flat against his palm, and glinted in the afternoon sun.

I felt a slight tingling of the dark power try and reach out to me, but that's all it was. My focus was trained on the Hobbit, trembling before Aragorn and I, unsure but brave. "Would you destroy it?" He asked.

Aragorn slowly walked to Frodo, and kneeled before the Hobbit. He stared down at the Ring, then curled Frodo's fist back over the small object. "I would have gone with you to the end… into the very fires of Mordor," Aragorn murmured, and pushed Frodo's fist back toward his chest.

"I know," the small Hobbit said, then looked up at me. I nodded, tacking on my silent _ditto_ to the end of Aragorn's words. "Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand."

"You don't give him enough credit," I admitted.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps – hundreds of them – stomping through leaves and breaking tree branches. I whipped around to look back at the forest from which Aragorn and I had come. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see through the trees, and found the movements of huge bulky shadows coming closer and closer.

"Aragorn –" I choked out, reaching back for my seraph blades.

Aragorn straightened up to his feet and pulled out his sword. "Go, Frodo," he ordered, sidling up to my side.

I kept my focus on the trees, but when I didn't hear Frodo move, I looked back at him to see he'd pulled out his sword, which started glowing blue.

"Guide him to the river, Madi," Aragorn ordered. I looked back at the man in horror.

"Dude, you don't know how many are out there –"

"Run!" He snapped at me. I glared at him, but quickly sheathed my swords, and ran towards Frodo.

"Come on," I said, grabbing the Hobbit by his shoulder, and forcing him off with me, leaving Aragorn to his fate with the Uruk-hai.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**Oooh, cliffhanger! Sorry, guys, but I had to drop it where it was. The next fight scene will be my favorite by far in this story, I think.**


	21. You can't Fix what's Meant to be Broke

**This chapter contains a bit more gore and swearing compared to earlier chapters.**

**ShoutOuts ~**

**Trollalalala:**** I'm sorry, I guess I did just do that? I swear I'm not trying to be cruel! I'm trying to be **_**realistic**_**! Or, as realistic as I can be writing about Hobbits and Rings of Power!**

**Random Person 94:**** Gah, your questions are definitely thought-provoking, for sure. I guess you'll just have to read to know what's going to happen next. As for the fight scene, I think it's pretty good, if I do say so myself.**

**DragonOwl:**** Wow… oh man, I am so flattered. I'm so glad you like Madi, she really has become a favorite character of mine (in case it isn't too obvious with the eight stories about her haha). You will **_**love**_** City of Bones, absolutely love it, and Howl's Moving Castle is one of my favorite stories too. Gosh, I'm so giddy you consider my story a good OC and Fellowship tale. Another great OC author to look into is going to be Velvet Nights and Satin Skies. Ten out of ten would recommend, even though she hasn't updated in a while!**

**Letus the Saiyan:**** I'm glad you love it! Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter as well!**

**Rogue's Queen:**** I have to say, I'm kind of amused at your username, since Madi identifies herself as a Rogue. Anyway, I'm really happy you're enjoying it! I love the Cassandra Clare stories as well, since they've always been Madi's sort of start-off points. **

**~ THEMESONGS ~**

_**Run**_** ~ Kill it Kid**

_**Bite Hard**_** ~ Franz Ferdinand**

_**.M.I.W.**_

**21. You can't Fix what's Meant to be Broke**

Frodo and I bolted through the forest, ducking out of the way of low hanging branches and navigating our way down hilly sections of the forest. I kept my hand securely placed between the Hobbit's shoulders, letting him focus on our way to the river while I stretched all of my other senses out, straining for the sound or sight or _feeling_ of any evil trying to come our way.

I ended up slipping down a particularly steep area, my boots not getting enough traction on the small, dead leaves. Frodo quickly navigated down towards me, as lithe as a mountain goat, his breathing fast and ragged. He almost ended up slipping as well, but I reached out and caught him, steadying him next to me. We paused, Frodo clutching the Ring tightly to his chest as I listened out, hearing the sounds of metal clanging against metal, and footsteps thundering all around us.

I grabbed the shoulder of Frodo's cloak and tugged him on, and we started running again, keeping the Hobbit close to my side.

"Is it too late… to say this is the… most fun I've ever had?" I breathed, narrowly dodging a rotting log reaching out into my path.

"You and I… must define fun differently, then," Frodo said as he managed to get a few steps in front of me. I laughed.

"Well at either rate, it's been a pleasure," I admitted. "I wish I could… do more for you than this."

Frodo didn't say anything else as we'd started scaling our way down a steeper hill. I heard heavy metal armor clanking its way closer, the thundering footsteps getting louder. I risked a glance over my shoulder, and saw the beginnings of the silhouettes of the Uruk-hai charging over the hill. We couldn't outrun them for long.

Then Frodo tripped over a log, and was sent tumbling down the hill and left to a sprawling heap. We weren't going to outrun them.

I skidded to a stop down the hill, pulling Frodo up to his feet. "You have to hide," I told him. "Hide until it's safe. I'll fight them off."

Frodo pinned me to my spot with a look. A steady, sure look that filled me with a fire I'd never experienced before. A protective spark shot up in my chest and through my spine. He knew I was doing this for him, and I wouldn't let him down. He knew I would die first. Any question or doubt he'd had about my protecting him was cast out of his mind. He nodded to me. "Thank you, Madison Verdantia," he said solemnly.

"Hey, now, what are friends for?" I smirked, but it quickly fell under his sincere gaze. "You're going to be all right."

I didn't know if it was a statement or a question by the time I was done saying it, but he nodded again and started to run away.

I turned around and scanned the hillside. There were at least fifty Uruk-hai racing down to meet me, and when they saw me coming, they let out strangled, bellowing squeals of bloodlust. I grinned, reaching back to whip out my seraph blades.

"_Sandalphon_! _Metatron_!" I cried, which resulted in two twin lights – bright as stars – bursting into life. The Uruk-hai didn't seem to know what to make of me and my shining swords. Their advance slowed, and the holds on their crude blades faltered. I grinned, and shot forward.

One of the assholes seemed to figure out I was not playing around, and charged at me with a bellow, which brought courage to the others. Then all of them started gaining in speed, and I was on my first victim.

"First blood!" I shouted, swinging my blades and bringing them across the massive Uruk-hai's thick neck. Dark blood spurted from the wound, and as it crumpled to the ground, I stepped on its heavy, armored shoulder, and swiped out at another, ducking just as a blade swept towards my neck.

I found one of the Uruk-hai breaking past the mob and further down the hill, where Frodo was hiding, and lurched forward. I slammed my whole body into the eight-foot-something (but I might be exaggerating, though) creature's back, which sent it sprawling on the ground. I nearly lost my balance tripping over the Uruk-hai's massive limbs as I stumbled towards the neck. I stabbed down into it with both swords, _through_ it, and looked up just in time as another one came at me. I pushed all of my weight onto the hilts of my swords, and swung my body up, kicking the thing in its sternum, which caused it to stumble back into a couple of others and knock them all down.

Meanwhile, I fell back on the carcass, and yanked my swords out of the Uruk-hai's neck to face down the next asshole.

I threw my swords up in an 'x' as a massive, flattened crowbar-looking blade chopped down on my head. I looked up at the gigantic Orc mutation, taking in the rotting red flesh and stringy long black hair, yellow eyes, and sickeningly sharp teeth grinding down at me. I grimaced, hiked my foot up, and tried to go for a nut-shot. Yeah, it was a dirty move, but I never claimed to be a clean fighter.

I kicked my heel mercilessly in its groin, but it didn't cause the usual, immediate reaction I looked for. Instead, it looked down at me in contempt, and let out a low growl.

"What are you, a Ken doll?" I demanded, and quickly dropped to scramble between the dude's legs. Once I reached the other side, I sliced my swords across the back of its knees, forcing the Uruk-hai to drop to the ground with a rumbling groan.

"Hey!" A familiar voice shouted above the throaty growls and snarls of the Uruk-hai. "Hey! Over here!"

"This way!" Another, higher pitched voice joined him.

"No!" I yelped, spinning around and finding Merry and Pippin flagging down the rest of the Uruk-hai patrol.

The soldiers already started racing towards them, and I tried to follow –

_CLANG!_

A low snarl boiled up from the base of my throat and into the face of the Uruk-hai forcing me down under my blades. They were thrown up to block the Uruk-hai's sword. I'd already been forced down to my knees, and this dude was bending me down further. I tried to fight it off, but I wasn't strong enough.

Suddenly, the sound of a horn blasted through the forest. A deep, wailing sound that I didn't need to guess to know what it was.

The horn of Gondor.

Boromir was in trouble.

I forced my body to curl to my left, snapping my left wrist out and clapping Metatron over the top of the enemy sword. I pushed myself up sharply and snapped my left leg out, right into the Uruk-hai's shoulder. It didn't see that coming, and stumbled off to the side, and I shot forward while it was still off balance.

It tried to lift its sword in a weak defense but I used both of my blades to swipe it off to the side, my swords shining, nearly twinkling in excitement as I advanced further on the Uruk-hai, and stabbed Sandalphon right through its neck as Boromir's horn sounded again.

I jerked both blades away and ran after the Hobbits, who were long gone by now, but wouldn't be able to outrun the twelve or so Uruk-hai on their trail. I raced with the lingering, slower members of the patrol, and swung in low and fast, slicing through the achilles tendon of one, two, and then three soldiers, effectively dropping them like flies. They caterwauled and snarled like angry boars, obviously in pain, but I felt giddy as hell, even allowing a dark laugh to bubble out of me.

I found another one racing ahead of me, covered in leathers and a mismatched helmet covering its head. I sheathed both of my swords and sprinted forward, yanking out the dagger (who I really considered needed a name at some point), and ran the Uruk-hai down to the ground. Meaning, yes, I tackled him from behind.

It managed to shove me off of itself, but I was quicker, slamming myself right into the monster as it rolled over on its back.

I straddled its massive chest, pinning its arms down with my legs, and reached out with my free hand to yank off the helmet on its head. The Uruk-hai snarled, but couldn't get its bearings together fast enough. I already threw the helmet aside, and dug the dagger's blade into its throat, just below its chin for a fast, deep slice.

The Uruk-hai gave a gurgly howl as blood spurted from the wound, some of it splattering on my face and staining my hands. I was already jumping up and running for the horn blaring through the forest.

I sprinted for it, my mind working on overdrive as I raced past Uruk-hai and didn't bother fighting them. Frodo may have split the Fellowship, but there was no way I was going to let Merry and Pippin get captured to split it further.

And there was no chance in hell Boromir was dying. Not if I had anything to say about it.

I leapt over a small dip in the hillside, my eyes locking on strawberry blond hair as it swung with Boromir's momentum as he sliced through an Uruk-hai. I raced forward toward another soldier making its way toward the Hobbits, whipping out my swords. They already burst into light as I slammed into the side of the Uruk-hai, stabbing both of my blades into its side underneath its heavy metal breastplate.

The creature tried to slash at me with its blade, but I quickly ducked under it, slicing at the back of its legs and causing it to come crashing to its knees. It let out a snarl/squeal of rage as I stood before it, bringing my swords down to an 'x' across its neck, and swiped out, finishing out a perfect execution. More blood spattered across my face and neck, and I spun around, hair beginning to fall out of my hair tie and into my face.

I faced a surprised Boromir, a grin on my face. "Miss me?" I asked cockily.

Boromir's eyes widened as he seemed to take me in, but the sound of heavy footsteps cut through his reply. We both looked up at the same time, finding a massive horde of Uruk-hai advancing on us far too quickly.

"Run!" Boromir shouted, turning around to usher the Hobbits further into the thicker forest. His cloak swept around him as he turned back around, facing off with one of the first, massive Uruk-hai.

I was busy throwing my swords down against another beast, its sword coming out at me with reckless, chaotic strength, and I ducked underneath it. Once on the other side of the swing, I sliced _through_ the Uruk-hai's bicep with both swords. The Uruk-hai looked beyond surprised as its limb still clutching its sword dropped to the forest floor – it let out the yowl to tell me so – but I was already stepping forward, bringing my swords out and then swiping inward, cutting off the Uruk-hai's head without a second's delay.

Right, these swords can cut through freaking _Twilight_ vampires, and Stephanie Meyer said those were like solid granite. What's a few Uruk-hai? Flesh and bone?

Yeah, they didn't stand a chance.

I found Boromir through the fray fighting two at once. I quickly lurched towards him, transferring my swords to one hand while I pulled out my dagger. I chucked it at my closest target, and the blade dug into the Uruk-hai's shoulder, incredibly close to its spine. The thing yowled and whipped around, baring its teeth at me like I should be scared.

"Bitch, _please_!" I shouted, flipping my swords with ease. "You think I should be scared of _you_? Motherfucker, look at your reflection, you look like a goddamn deranged _cat_!"

The Uruk-hai charged –

_Crash!_

Our swords collided, and I grinned under the force my whole body was put under as it tried to push me down. No dice. I was way stronger than Rivendell now. I could take on a block like this, and I totally would.

I swung all of our swords off to the right, and lurched back. I blocked its next swing with Metatron and swiped out with Sandalphon, slashing the Uruk-hai hard and fast across the face. It squealed in rage and pain, blinded by the blood flooding into its eyes.

I took the immediate initiative and lobbed off the arm leading to the hand clutching at its face. The thing screamed again, but I already started advancing again, my steps light and quick and sharp as I fought to the inside, found my target, and stabbed the Uruk-hai through the neck. I quickly yanked out my swords and practically twirled out of the way as it collapsed to the ground. I took out the dagger still lodged in its back and stuffed it back into its scabbard before running back for a relay with Boromir.

I fought with another Uruk-hai on the way, the creature pushing me towards the knight. I managed to sever the head before it landed a swipe into my side, and lurched back right into Boromir's chest.

He steadied me against him with one hand, and I peered up at him with a smirk. "We really should stop bumping into each other like this," I said, which caused him to laugh.

We then surged forward on another Uruk-hai making its way toward us, Boromir blocking the brunt of the blade while I went straight for the exposed stomach, stabbing right into its abdomen with both blades and twisting them so there would be no hope of repair for this injury.

The Uruk-hai collapsed before us, and I smirked.

But then a heavy weight slammed right across my shoulders and sternum, knocking me backwards on my ass. I looked up at Boromir, the dude who kind of took me down, confusion hitting me hard and fast. "Boromir, what the –"

_Swwwwiiiip!_

"_No!_" I screamed, scrambling up to my feet. I quickly sheathed my swords, and caught Boromir as he staggered into my arms. A long black arrow stuck out of his chest. I looked up, desperately trying to track the shooter through the melee of Uruk-hai advancing upon us, but I couldn't see him. My heart dropped as another monster came barreling toward us.

Then Boromir lurched up out of my arms, swinging his sword loosely at the enemy. "Fight!" He yelled at me as another Uruk-hai came running towards us.

Without hesitation, I unsheathed my swords and shot forward, making quick work of dispatching the Uruk-hai with simple block and swipe to the throat. I wanted to turn around and focus on Boromir, but I was hit with an onslaught of Uruk-hai. I tried to fight through two of them at once as fast as I could, ducking under blades and hitting with the most excruciating blows. My ears were trained on the sound of Boromir's heavy breathing, his gasps of pain as he swung his sword so hard.

I ducked low and fast on another Uruk-hai, taking it down swiftly by slicing the backs of its knees and severing off its head.

_Swwiiipp!_

Boromir let out a hoarse cry of anguish, which pierced hard into my chest. I spun around, finding another poisonous arrow embedded into his side, just below his ribcage.

"_Boromir!_" I shouted, dropping to his side. I could feel my chest burning, my throat closing as fat tears clouded up my vision. I crouched in front of him, holding my swords out in a defensive stance against anyone who dared come near him. I glanced back at saw Merry and Pippin a few feet away, their faces crumpling in despair as they looked at Boromir. I had to get through this. I had to get through this for all of them. This could not happen!

I turned back around and tracked through the crowd, estimating which Uruk-hai would hit us first, and suddenly found and one with a bow.

It was a bit larger than the others, with a mane of greasy black hair and a large white handprint stamped across his face. He bared his teeth at me, about ready to string another arrow. I wanted to go after him, desperately. The need and instinct to attack – like a wild animal forced into a corner – pushed up from my stomach and tried to force me forward. But I couldn't. I had to _defend_.

Because three more Uruk-hai were advancing on me. I shot out to the first one, blocking off the swipe of its sword. It tumbled off balance and rolled out of the way, but I didn't go after it. I couldn't leave my place in front of Boromir.

So I fought against the second one, making quick work of stopping it short as it ran neck-first right into my swords. It crumpled into a useless heap at my feet, and I stood on top of the carcass to gain a height advantage against the third, swinging out, and chopping off his head. It too crumpled a few inches away from the first dead body.

_SLAM!_

I was pushed off my small mountain by a force that knocked the air right out of me. I crashed into the leafy forest floor with a heavy weight on top of me. I sucked in a breath, only to gag on it when I smelled rotting eggs and decaying vegetables. The Uruk-hai who knocked me down snarled in my ear, I could hear its sharp teeth grind against one another. I wriggled underneath the weight, but it was completely useless. I couldn't get out from under it, and it seemed to know that too.

_Swwiiipp!_

I turned over to look at Boromir. Another black, ugly arrow struck right into the center of his ribcage. He dropped to his knees. My world collapsed.

"_No, Boromir, no!_" I shouted, my voice going raw from fear and despair and helplessness. "God no! _Please_ no!"

I heard a metallic sliding sound, and looked up in time as the Uruk-hai above me had a crude, rusty dagger in its hand, pointing it down towards me. I managed to roll over on my back as it stabbed down, and whipped my head to the side, and heard the sound of the dagger dig into the ground next to my face.

"Stay alive!" I shouted at Boromir. "Stay! _Here_! I swear to God I will kill you myself if you don't! _Please_ don't die!"

The Uruk-hai above me gave a startled snort, but I found myself moving faster.

I pulled my arm out from under the Uruk-hai, and reached out to grab the top of its scalp. I held it firmly in place as I reacted on the best and only instinct I had.

I found a little more leverage, and slammed my forehead right into the Uruk-hai's.

_CRACK!_

My head exploded in pain, and I tried to blink against the black spots sprouting up in front of my eyes. Rather than in pain, the Uruk-hai looked more surprised, but that was good enough for me.

I reached out and wrestled the dagger out of his hands. When I finally got a hold of it, I stabbed it into the jackass's neck. It squirmed and squealed in pain and rolled off of me, scrambling at the knife stuck in its throat. I tried to push myself up, but my world was spinning. I felt like I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see. My head clanged and jangled with one word bouncing around my skull: _Boromir, Boromir, Boromir, Boromir._ I forced myself up, reaching out to grab my seraph blades –

Of course, once I barely regained my bearings, I was knocked down under the foot of one seriously pissed of Uruk-hai. My seraph blades dropped to either side of me as I fell on the flat of my back, a heavy foot set squarely in the middle of my chest. I gasped, the air flying out of my lungs again, and cried out once I realized I felt the Uruk-hai's foot squeezing down on me.

I stared up into the face of my attacker, finding it to be the Uruk-hai with the bow. He stared down at me with a mixture of malice and disgust, his foot squeezing down on my chest. The weight was becoming too much, I couldn't breathe, where were Merry and Pippin?

"Pathetic little witch-child," the Uruk-hai snarled down at me, then pressed down harder.

_Snap! Crack!_

I screamed out as I felt my ribs give out from underneath the weight of its foot. "_You fucking sonofabitch!_" I yelled. "I'll _kill_ you!"

The Uruk-hai snorted in disdain and stepped off of me, making his way toward Boromir. He still had three arrows sticking out of his body, kneeled down on the ground, looking as though he were taking in his final breaths.

I rolled onto my side, my middle screaming out in pain, but I found the Uruk-hai stringing another arrow to his bow, pointing it directly down on Boromir's head, execution style.

And that was when I realized I didn't give a fuck about my ribs, and forced myself up. I grabbed my swords, and started making my way towards the Uruk-hai, with unsteady, large steps. Once I felt safe enough walking, I started jogging. And then I started running. And then it was an all-out sprint.

Boromir looked over at me as I closed the space between us. His whole body shook in pain as he struggled for air. Strangely enough, a small, tired smile formed on his face, even as he just kneeled there, dying.

The Uruk-hai pulled his string back to release the arrow –

_Swi-clink!_

The Uruk-hai bridled back as the arrow splintered off of my swords. I barely felt the vibrations even as they shook off my arms, and I glared up at the beast. I felt incredibly… planted, steady, hyper focused, and ready to burst out into all hell.

"You have unleashed fury…" Boromir gasped from behind me, "in its purest form."

I shot forward.

The Uruk-hai reeled back, picking up both a crude looking shield and an equally heinous sword.

_Clang!_

Our swords met, but it didn't take that long for the Uruk-hai to realize the shield in his hand could be put to good use. He swung it out, letting the end collide right into my injured ribcage. Fiery pain rolled through my abdomen, and the only noise that let this douche know he struck a low blow was the whine/yelp that tore out of my lips when I straightened myself up. I ran forward again, this time hiking up my foot, and bringing it down on that stupid shield.

The Uruk-hai stumbled back under my weight, a low growl simmering off of its lips.

"Come on," I hissed, flipping my swords. "Fight me like you mean it, at least. You see me carrying around a shield like a fucking patsy?"

The Uruk-hai growled at me, then threw its shield to the ground. The spikes at the end of it stuck into the soft earth, causing the shield to stand upright without any support. Then it ran at me.

I ducked under the first swipe of its sword, my ribs crying out in pain as I tucked in on myself and shifted to the left. I swung out with both swords, allowing two wounds to cut into its side. The Uruk-hai made a grunt of surprise before reeling back on me.

I feinted backward and cut to the right, dodging another close call with the Uruk-hai's blade. Another swipe had me dropping on my back, rolling further back on my shoulders, and pushing back up in the smoothest kid-up I would ever accomplish.

My feet collided with the Uruk-hai's chest, and we both went crashing down. I could full the painful pull in my ribs, the injury now far more aggravated than ever, and I froze at the pain for a split-second, which was all the Uruk-hai needed to punch me in the face.

I flew backwards and landed hard on the forest floor. Breathing was officially impossible as I laid there, splayed out on the ground, my seraph blades just out of reach. I watched in horror as the Uruk-hai straightened up, and picked up his own blade. He made his way towards me, and I quickly scrambled to pull out the dagger. In a last ditch effort, I chucked it at him, the blade cutting right into its bicep, when I'd been aiming for his face. Goddammit, I never was good at throwing things.

The Uruk-hai stared at the hilt of my dagger, then slowly pulled it out of its arm. I jumped up, grabbing both of my seraph blades, and I surged forward. The creature didn't see me coming until I was standing in front of him and had my seraph blades in an 'x' at its neck.

"I'm no witch," I informed it with a steely growl. "I'm a Rouge."

I sliced hard and fast, effectively scissoring off the Uruk-hai's head.

_**.M.I.W.**_

**I don't think I've ever had one chapter devoted so completely to a fight scene.**

**What do we think? **


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